A House Divided Amongst Itself
by ThePilotArchangel
Summary: First Contact AU! The United Confederacy explores the Orion arm of the milky way galaxy, unaware of the rest of galactic civilization. When mankind meets its first aliens, how will things unfold? How will mankind react? (Undergoing MASSIVE Rewrite)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Summary: As of the time of this writing, the United Confederacy is currently made up of only one species, its founder Humanity. However, there are currently negotiations ongoing into accepting another race into their fold; along with heavy debate within their congress to amend the constitution to give the possible new members full rights under their space… _

_Skipping to section 17… "Military capabilities and ship classes."_

_-Ship Classes: -Patrol Torpedo (or PT) Boats, these are the smallest ships in the entire Union navy. They are also, in my opinion, the deadliest vessels, only behind their Fleet Aircraft Carriers, and the smaller and cheaper Escort Carriers. Shaped somewhat like a human beer bottle, (see pg. 70 for more information) "PT" boats are known for being incredibly fast and hard to hit. _

_At only 40 meters in length, PT boats are barely considered warships; in contrast to the "Destroyer Escort" class, which are typically 200 meters long. "Prowler" class vessels are slightly smaller, often being 150 meters long._

_With a rather large engine, it can do miniature "Warp" jumps (see pg. 5, FTL capabilities) from its original position to right next to its targeted ship. The PT boats carry eight 40mm "Bofors," guns for point defense and support fire. These are housed in four duel mounts, each able to swing 270 degrees in any direction for overlapping fields of fire. _

_The real "punch" of these PT boats lies in their 4 torpedoes however. Each torpedo packs the equivalent of 4535 kilograms of explosives. One torpedo can down a cruisers shields, and a second would rip a massive hole in its hull; effectively disabling it. And each torpedo is incredibly strong, able to withstand a Guardian Laser point blank without shields. With shields, they are nearly indestructible. That being said, they do have their limits, hence the reason why PT boats oftentimes close to within "knife fighting" range in order to maximize the chances of their torpedoes hitting their mark._

_Despite their fearsome reputation, PT boat duty is largely seen as dull in the Union navy; both in peacetime and in war. Crewed with 10-15 people, PT boats are cramped and only meant to leave their bases for short periods of time. One week being the longest before the crew has to return to port. PT boat home bases are rarely on planets, most of the time they can be found in asteroid belts, small moons, or on space stations (the last of which is considered the best out of the three.)_

_They are crewed almost always by sailors either seen as too inexperienced or too undisciplined to serve on larger warships. The officers in turn, are either freshly minted ones in charge of their first "commands," or older ones that failed to distinguish themselves and are close to retirement._

_The most common usage of PT boats during peacetime is something humans call "picket duty." A small group of typically three PT boats will sit on station in an uninhabited system on the border of their territory, looking out for Pirates or secessionist rebels._

_It was one of these picket groups that ended up being mankind's first contact group…_

**PT 73**

Lieutenant junior grade Benjamin McHale sat in his captain's chair, trying his best to not let his boredom show on his face. He hated picket duty, everyone hated picket duty; the only person who didn't hate it was Captain Robert Carpenter. Their "illustrious" commander officer hardly ever bothered to leave their home base, and Picket duty was his favorite punishment assignment.

PT boats living conditions would have made the sailors of the mid-20th century diesel subs feel like they were living in luxury. The "Bridge" was the second biggest room of the boat; a captain's chair in the center, the helmsman's/communication station to his left, the navigation/weapons systems station to his right. Five were always in the engineering space, making sure the engine and warp drive still worked. The last seven were either manning one of the guns, which could be switched from automated to manual control at will; or they were in the "galley" sitting on their asses and trying to pass the time.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, knocking his officer's cap loose. Sweat stained his tan uniform, thankful that he could roll up the sleeves. He had removed his black tie a while ago and placed it in his breast pocket.

_That damned heater, Screw you insulation;_ He thought. The heater had broken, and was now dumping heated air all throughout the boat. The insulation was doing its job at keeping the heat inside, so as a result it was a sweltering 101 degrees Fahrenheit in the PT boat. He suspected that if he would let them the crew would strip naked, or at least down to their skivvies, just to cool down a little.

He picked up his iPad and began cueing up a game of solitaire to pass the time. As the CO of the boat, he rarely got any off time; he didn't even have his own quarters. Just a bunk set aside from the others, with the Chief engineers bunk above him, with a small curtain to give the two officers some privacy. The crew didn't even get a curtain; all their bunks were crammed together out in the open.

The head, which sat between the bridge and engineering spaces, was nothing special; a small door, a toilet, and a shower was all it contained. PT boats were more like submarines from the 20th and 21st century, if Ben was honest with himself. Only a small window in front of him let him and the rest of the crew know there was a universe outside.

The torpedo room was in the "neck" part of the ship, the part that looked like a neck of a bottle. The bridge was where the neck met the rest of the bottle. The crew spaces, the galley the head and the bunks made up the rest of the space. The last 40 ft. of the 130 ft. boat was the engineering space.

The lack of privacy would have made any civilian, hell even some more squeamish sailors puke. But on PT boats, the crew was family; everyone had been together or would be together for one to two years. No one had any shame whatsoever.

"_Excusez-moi skipper?_ I have a minor problem." A musical voice came from behind him. The sound of water dripping on the bulkhead was quite audible.

Case and point, the beautiful Frenchwoman behind him. This was a common prank; steal the sailor's clothes while they were in the shower to force them to talk to the CO naked. In the regular navy, this was sexual harassment and hazing. On PT boats, this was just a way to pass the time. All PT boat crews did this sort of thing, and it wasn't a female thing only, oh no. A lot of guys would get to show off just how big of a gun they were packing.

Ben turned and looked at the annoyed raven haired woman behind him. He didn't even look at her naked body and just looked her in the eyes. He'd had this happen 6 times already, and it was only 3 months into his 1 year deployment as PT boat commander. First time had been a guy, and he'd made the mistake of not looking up from his iPad before he turned around.

New sailors would be left alone for the first few months, or at the very least until they witnessed it happen; at which point someone would explain the prank to them. Then they were free game. With four women and eleven men on the crew, counting himself of course, they were a close net family. The chief engineer, the only other officer on board typically played the mother role; while the CO played the father. All the enlisted people were their children, like brothers and sisters to each other.

His chief engineer, Ensign Krystina Brozek, was a young woman from Poland. Ben was the oldest person onboard at the ripe old age of 23, Krystina was 22; the rest of the crew ranged from 17 and a half to 19. It wasn't uncommon for PT boat officers to become romantically involved if they were female and male.

Ben raised an eyebrow, "Do you know which one did it Torpedo woman Macron?" not even bothering to ask why she was naked, having done this routine several times now.

She nodded, "_Oui lieutenant_, Machinist mate 3rd class Halleck sir."

Ben nodded, and hit the intercom button on his chair. A whistle came over the COMM, and he said "Machinist Halleck and Ensign Brozek report to the bridge please."

He sat there and looked back down at his iPad, unhappy that his solitaire game had been interrupted. The dripping water off of Macron was a little distracting, but Ben ignored it.

"How was your date sir?" he heard her ask.

Ben smiled a little bit, and straightened his cap. "It went well, talked about a lot of things; and we also talked about how you guys are the best crew officers could ask for. Minus a few hiccups of course."

He didn't even need to look at her to tell she was blushing a little. The crewman at the helm and the crewwoman at the weapons both laughed.

"Damn girl, you got a nice set there I gotta say. If I was a lesbian I'd try and bed ya the second picket duty was over." Weapons joked.

"And if I wasn't gay I'd join right in." Helm jumped in.

Ben rolled his eyes as Krystina and Halleck entered the bridge, cramping it even more.

"Krys, we got a code nude; please enact standard operating procedure." He ordered.

Krys smiled warmly, and said "_Tak porucznik_" She turned to Macron, "Don't worry sailor, we'll get this all straightened out." She said in a motherly tone.

She turned to Halleck, "Machinist mate 3rd class William Halleck. Torpedo Woman 3rd class Angeline Macron has accused you of implementing a Code Nude, how do you plead?"

"Guilty." he responded, as was the norm. This was how the prank always went.

"Then you accept the charges and punishment entailed?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level and her face straight. Ben couldn't do it; he was smirking as we watched the exchange.

"I do." He said, now smiling in a shit eating grin.

"Then strip naked sailor." Krys ordered, her voice wavering now.

Halleck immediately did so, standing at attention next to the still naked macron.

A low whistle came from both Weapons and Helm. "Damn you packed the big guns didn't you?" Weapons asked.

"Not the biggest I've seen, but it's pretty high up there; you should be proud Will." Helm said in an admiring tone.

A load beeping came from the Helms station, and he reluctantly spun around to look to see what it was. He froze like a deer in headlights. "Sir… I… contact entering the system. They don't register as PT boats; they don't register under any Union navy ship in fact."

That killed the mood; he stood and walked over to look at the readings. Despite the fact it was only a foot away. Ben leaned over and looked at the readings. "1 destroyer class or at least something similar in size; and 2 destroyer escort class vessels skipper. No known registry, power readings are completely different than ours. Holy shit, Skipper, I think these are aliens." Weapons reported.

Ben mulled it over for a moment. "Get me Lt. Cmdr. Praveden on PT 117, Krys get back to engineering. And you two get your damn clothes back on and get to your stations." Ben hit a button as everyone scrambled to follow his orders. The "general quarters" alarm sounded on the tiny boat, even as Commander Praveden appeared on the small holo-tank next to the captain's chair.

"Lieutenant? I just received some strange readings near your ship, would you care to explain?" He asked.

"Sir," Ben saluted, "We just detected three vessels entering the system. They match no known ship designs in Union space. I believe we may be dealing with a first contact scenario sir." He reported.

Three torpedo men ran through the bridge into the torpedo room. Macron followed a few seconds later. She had pulled on her black pants and boots, but neglected to put on her skivvies and light blue blouse. She held her blouse in her hand along with her ball cap, but she made no move to put either on as she ran past.

Ben wiped the sweat off his brow again.

"Sir, I recommend enacting the COLE Protocol." He said.

Praveden nodded. "Agreed son; look I'm going to be honest with you. We can't contact them first under any circumstances. A PT boat isn't meant to do first contact, not considering our respective mechanical problems. The 117's COMM equipment isn't doing too hot, we're lucky we got through to you at all. And you're having problems with your temperature regulators. Hell, we don't even have an AI to try and translate what they say."

Ben took this in silently. Praveden was a fair and level headed man, and one that knew how to think; a rare quality in older PT boat commanders. A thought came to him, and deciding that there was no harm in it he said; "Sir, we're the only two boats here. Since my COMM equipment is working fine, I am willing to stay and shadow the alien craft. You could go back to base and inform the Captain what's happening, and then they can send a proper first contact fleet."

Praveden mulled it over for a few moments. Ben watched him waiting on a verdict.

"I don't like leaving you alone with the wolves Lieutenant, but we don't really have a choice. Very well, hold station; expect reinforcements to arrive within a few hours at most." He said, "Good luck, and God bless all of you."

**MFBV Raaleya**

Nato'Meemor vas Raaleya looked over his navigation officer's shoulder, watching as the two contacts vanished from sensors. They had managed to get a visual on one for a few brief moments before it winked out, but his tech people were still trying to piece it together.

"And you are certain you didn't detect any Element Zero Lieutenant?" He asked.

The navigation officer looked back at him, annoyance shimmering through his visor; "I am certain Captain. _Keelah,_ they barely appeared at all on sensors. I only saw them when they started charging their engines and jumped away. I don't know how they were moving faster than light without 'eezo' but they did it."

Nato mulled it over, his frigates hadn't even detected the small vessels; so all he had was his Nav officers word that something had been there. _It couldn't hurt to check_, He decided. "Did you catch where they went? The fleet wants to make sure this sector is clear before they move anything in."

The nav officer checked over his readings for a moment. "The furthest one I lost after it jumped. The closer one went the opposite direction of the other; I think it's still in… wait… Got it, Dammit! I lost it again. I'm tracking it by heat sources since it has no eezo I can follow, but the damned thing is slippery. It went into the asteroid belt, and its slipping from heat source to heat source."

Nato gave a small nod, whoever this was must have been a skilled captain. Or very lucky; "How big is it, and can you identify who it belongs too?"

"It's only… _Keelah, _its only 40 meters in length; That's not a warship, that's a yacht." Nav exclaimed. "As for who owns it I can't identify. These are either council black operators, pirates, or…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

"Or?" Nato prompted, pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Or these are a new race captain." Nav finished. The whole bridge went silent as he said that. Nato mulled over his options for a moment.

"Inform the migrant fleet that we have potentially encountered a new species. Space faring and rather primitive based on the size of their vessels. Send all the relevant data we have on them. Helm, plot a course towards the 'yacht.' I want to see exactly what they are capable of."


	2. Cat and Mouse

**Quick A/N: I changed the name because I was informed that someone else had already taken it.**

**Chapter 1**

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 3…_

_-The United Confederacy Government._

_Humanity's central government is confusing to say the least. It is a testament to humanities value on individuality that they formed a government such as this. Where should I start…_

_I suppose I can start with the governments that it was based on; The United States of America and the Federal Republic of Germany. The current government takes the bi-cameral legislature and electoral process of the United States; and the split executive branch of Germany. _

_There are three branches in their Government; Congress, Executive, and Judicial branch._

_The power of the executive branch is split between two people. The President of the People is elected in a general election by the people. The process is very similar to the Electoral Collage of the United States, (see section 30.) The only real difference is that the electors are required to vote for whomever the people in their country picks. The president can serve for two 4 earth year terms._

_The other position is The Chancellor of Nations. While the President represents the will of the people, the Chancellor represents the governments of the nation-states that make up the Confederacy. While electors for the president are afforded by population, Every Country gets two votes for the Chancellor. The two votes are split; one vote goes to popular vote of the nation, while the other vote is decided by the nation's government. The Chancellor has no term limit, and each term is 6 earth years._

_The functions of the two positions of power merge a lot of times, at least until recently when the Confederacy realized that they were indeed not alone. _

_So far as I can tell, the Chancellor takes care of domestic affairs; and is the commander in chief of the National Guard. (This includes the colonies.) Most of earth's nation states don't have world spanning armies anymore. And those that do (such as the United States or China,) operate in certain grey area; as they don't fall under control of the President or the Chancellor._

_The President handles "foreign" affairs. Up until recently, this was loosely defined. But most agreed that the Presidents main job was to enforce whatever laws that congress passed and he approved, and uphold the constitution. Now the President's job is both to represent the people of the Confederacy, and protect them from external threats. _

_The Supreme Court is rather simplistic. The judges are recommended by both the President and the Chancellor, and are approved by the senate. The judges read cases both by individuals and by nations made against both laws of nations and passed by congress that they feel violates their rights or sovereignty respectively. The Supreme Court also decides on the constitutionality of a law (whether or not it violates the constitution,) and if they feel it is in violation of the constitution, they can void the law. The judges also serve for life until they retire, commit a felony, or fail to pass the mental and physical health tests._

_Lastly is congress; the leader of Congress is the Prime Minister, who is elected by majority vote of both the Senate and the House of Delegates. The House of Delegates is elected by a popular vote. There are currently 2215 Delegates in the house. Each nation is given a set number of delegates based on their population, one being the minimum. The current holder of the most Delegates is India, followed by China, then the United States. Each country gets two Senators, whom are elected in the same way the Chancellor is, one by popular vote, the other by the nation's government. There are 500 senators in the Senate. _

_You may be wondering how the Confederacy's colonies factor into this. Well in essence, each colony acts as its own Nation-state. They get a number of Delegates based on their population, and two senators. The Prime Minister acts at the behest of congress, and runs the day to day operations. The Prime Minister has a 6 term limit, and each term is 2 earth years._

_Most consider the Prime Minister to be the unofficial third member of the executive, creating what is known as a triumvirate; The President representing the People, The Chancellor Representing the Nations, and The Prime Minister representing Congress._

_If your head has started hurting don't be alarmed, this political mess can be rather confusing. Please keep in mind that I am only going into my preliminary findings of their government. If you wish to read my more detailed reports, proceed at your own risk…_

_Logging Off…_

**Earth, Washington D.C.**

"And you're certain they are alien?" President Grant asked.

The hologram of the Chief of Naval Operations nodded, "Yes Mr. President, PT boats 73 and 117 found them on Yankee station. The 117 jumped back to base due to faulty communications equipment. The 73 is currently playing 'Hunt for Red October' with them as the boomer. They said that they both wish to test the aliens capabilities, and also to buy us time to get a proper first contact fleet ready. In _Leftenant_ McHale's own words sir, 'my temperature regulator is broken, my crew and I are sweating like pigs and look like them too, and PT boats are more cramped than a diesel sub.'" He looked up to gauge his superior's reactions.

President Johnathon A. Grant, a retired Confederacy Air Force fighter pilot looked amused at the young officer's choice of words. The poor kid probably didn't know his short and terse message was now being read to the most powerful people in the galaxy.

Chancellor Ayelet Isaaman, a retired Mossad operator looked unimpressed; having experience far worse in her days in Mossad.

Prime Minister Dayananda Singh, a retired Confederacy Army tanker was sympathetic; painful memories of spending entire days cooped up in his cramped tank.

"I trust preparations are already in order then?" Grant asked.

The Admiral nodded, "Yes sir, I'm mobilizing task group 7; they have 3 escort carriers, 2 antiaircraft cruisers, 3 destroyers, and 4 destroyer escorts. That should be more than enough for a first contact fleet." What he didn't add was that three escort carriers was roughly equivalent to one and a half fleet carriers. But there were 20 escort carriers in service, and 4 fleet carriers; with another 5 escort carriers under construction compared to 1 fleet carrier.

The Chancellor shifted uncomfortably, "No battleships? What about the fleet carriers? Yankee station is awfully close to Shanxi Admiral, and once we brief Congress and the Security Council they will be clamoring for a bigger fleet and for another to reinforce them." She said, clearly agitated now.

"Peace Ayelet, We know that; that's why the admiral is only sending a task group. We want to keep our best cards close to our chest." Grant soothed.

The Prime Minister looked up from the data reports delivered by the 117. He was up for reelection this year in congress; the President had two years until his reelection was up for his second term. The Chancellor still had three years left, this being her first term. Of the three, Singh was the most experienced in politics. This was his 4th term, and he only had two left; assuming he won both of them. This find could make or break their careers.

Singh leaned back in his chair, "I will brief a joint session of congress behind closed doors. We keep a lid on this until we determine whether or not they are friendly. I'll prepare a diplomatic party as well. I think one of us also needs to go, Chancellor it should be you." He said.

Ayelet looked surprised. "Me? Why?"

Grant smiled, "You're the Chancellor of Nations, a retired Mossad agent, and in just three years you've brought many dissident nations to heel through sheer diplomacy. I'm just a young Pilot, and Dayananda is an old Politician. No offense Singh."

Singh shrugged, "I've heard much worse, and he is right Ayelet. You were a spy; you know how to read people. Right now that's what we need. We'll send the diplomatic shuttle _Paris_, she's fastest one we can find; and the AI is one of our best linguists, he should be able to translate any first contact package they send."

The admiral decided to ask, "Are we bringing a Vatican representative?"

Singh and Ayelet looked to Grant, who seemed to be deep in thought. Of the 35 Billion humans that inhabited Confederacy space, 10-12 billion were Roman Catholic. After the 2nd American civil war, and WW3 by extension, there had been a massive surge in religious populism. Most of the protestant sects had petered out in the past century, unable to keep up with the advances in science. Catholicism was the exception, being able to keep up with the times using logic and interpretation; Judaism had managed to regain some of its lost population, now numbering approximately 1 billion people.

Islam had stayed somewhat stagnate, still numbering about 2-3 billion people. Most of the rest were secular, believing in some higher power; but they didn't claim to belong to any one religion.

"I'll talk with the Holy Father, see what he wants." Grant decided.

They nodded, and the Chancellor and Prime Minister stood to leave; even as the Admirals hologram winked out. Privately, all of them hoped that all of their preparations in the military would allow them to face any potential threat these aliens posed. The haunting thoughts of the world wars fresh in their minds, _never again._

**MFBV Raaleya**

Nato's frustration was slowly growing with this alien ship. _Whoever these people are, they are certainly a paranoid folk._ He thought. He had his frigates take position outside the asteroid field, while he went in to find this alien ship. He made sure the weapons stayed off, but he did have the kinetic barriers pushed to full.

The fleet had given him orders to follow the alien ship, but to avoid making hostile moves to avoid spooking them. This was very clearly a new species, just looking at the ship as it slipped away from sensors again.

The alien captain was smart, and clearly experienced. They knew that Nato was tracking them using heat sources, so he was moving from heat pocket to heat pocket in the asteroid belt. Once the ship was behind it, they would move in the exact opposite direction as the _Raaleya_ so that the sensors only saw one heat source, rather than two.

He hadn't made contact yet because the fleet was sending a small group of 4 frigates as reinforcements. He was also curious to see what these aliens were capable of. So far he was impressed, what they lacked in technology they made up for in cleverness and boldness.

"Captain, the fleet just sent us an update; reinforcements will be here in about ten minutes." Comms said. Nato gave a short nod, and went back to watching the alien ship. Hopefully what he was looking at was their equivalent of a frigate. Perhaps if they were friendly, they could be persuaded to let the Quarian people into their space, maybe even trade with them. That FTL drive for one, Nato didn't think it was possible to move faster than light without eezo; but these aliens apparently disagreed.

He wondered what was going through the alien captain's mind. _Probably laughing at me, he's running circles around us._

**PT 73**

Ben wiped the sweat off his brow. The temperature was now 110 degrees, even he had stripped off his khaki blouse, but he had kept his cap and white undershirt on. He had finally broken down and passed the word that the crew could use any means they could find to cool themselves down.

Apparently macron wasn't the only one who had skipped out on her skivvies.

Weapons sat there using her ball cap as a fan, and had loosed her hair from her bun. She also was buck naked, her uniform lying in a pile next to her station. Helm had elected to keep his polka dot boxers on, but was otherwise in a similar state.

Ben stood and looked into the torpedo room; Macron hadn't put her blouse or undershirt on. And the other three torpedo men had taken off their shirts; one was buck naked like Weapons.

A shudder passed through the ship, and the Lieutenant ran back passed the bridge, through the living quarters, and into the engine room. The Fusion reactor was still chugging along, Krystina was shirtless, but still had her skivvies on. The other female engineer was dressed the same way. The rest of the men all had their shirts off, but none were naked.

_Thank God for that_ Ben thought, in the reactor room it was far more dangerous to forgo your uniform.

As he walked back to the Bridge, he shuddered, _I bet that fucker is thinking 'hey look at this puny little ship trying to run.' _

"Sir, transmission from FLEETCOMM; 'First Contact fleet is inbound, EAGLE is onboard diplomatic ship _Paris. _ETA is 1 minute. They want us to meet them at entry point WHISKEY." Helm reported as he walked in.

Ben let the fact that Her Excellency herself the Chancellor was inbound roll off of him. He had more important things to worry about. He sat back into his chair and hit the ship wide broadcast button on the armrest. "Attention crew, Fleet is inbound; please get yourself dressed properly." He paused, hearing the groans drift up from the engine room and torpedo room. "I can hear your complaints from here, that's an order. Engineering, get the reactor prepped for a short jump."

Weapons and Helm grudgingly put their uniforms back on in 20 seconds. Then Helm plugged in the coordinates for the jump. Ben looked through the view port at the alien ship, and gave a wolfish grin. "Good game guy, you had me worried for a bit; I almost had to use the jump drive to get away."

A distinctive shudder ran through the PT boat, and space in the viewport warped. It only lasted for a second, and when space straightened out again they were out of the asteroid belt. _Let them chew on that_ he thought smugly.

**MFBV Raaleya**

"Captain, it jumped again." Sensors reported.

"Damn, we must have spooked them. Where did they go?" Nato asked.

Sensors ran through her readings, before finding it. "Found it, on the outskirts of the system, but it's still there. Not exactly sure what it's… Oh…" she trailed off as everyone saw the same exact thing, a whole fleet of ships.

"REPORT!" Nato barked, already mentally kicking himself for underestimating these aliens. Of course those tiny little "yachts" weren't all they had for warships.

"I… _Keelah_…" Sensors stammered, taking an involuntary step back from her console. "2 heavy cruisers, 3 light cruisers, 3 destroyers, and 4 frigates. But all of these readings are relative. The heavy cruisers are shorter that the light ones, but the sensors are showing them as very heavily armed. _Keelah,_ look at the point defense guns on those things." She stammered.

Nato kept his cool, "Inform the Admirals, Alien fleet has arrived. The corvette we were pursuing has fled into it. I recommend that our approaching reinforcements come in at a distance and regroup slowly as to not alarm the alien fleet commanders."

Comms did so, but then; "Sir, I'm getting a message… its audio and video. I think we're getting a first contact package."

The crew looked at him, Nato mulled it over. His frigates had regrouped with him, "Put it on, and make sure the incoming fleet receives it along with our escorts."

The message playing, prompting gasps from some of the crew, but Nato kept a straight face. _This is certainly a surprise._ He thought.

**A/N: Holy cow, I never thought that this would be this popular. I uploaded the first chapter last night before I went to bed; I woke up this morning and my phone was blowing up with alerts for favorites, follows, and reviews. Wow… I'm blown away. I don't normally do authors notes, but I felt I should put one here. Also just an FYI; I am a very sporadic writer. I get strokes of genius, write 5,000-10,000 words for the story; then sit around for a few weeks thinking, then repeat. However, I do have a cardinal rule; when I start my stories, I make damn sure I know how it's gonna end. So it may be slow, but we'll get there. **

**Also PT boats 73, and 117 are both references. One should be rather obvious, but the other is a very old reference. If you think you know what it is, let me know in a review.**

**Hope ya enjoyed, and I'll see ya when I see ya.**


	3. Diplomacy Inbound

**A/N: I would like to reiterate. I changed the name of the story, for those wondering, because I was informed the previous name was already taken. Thank you**

**Also Happy Easter**

**Chapter 2**

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 15…_

_-The Roman Catholic Church._

_The Roman Catholic Church, oftentimes simply referred to as "The Church," or "Catholic Church," is the main religion in United Confederacy space. Contrary to popular belief amongst the citadel races, The Catholic Church only makes up about half of humanities population. The Confederacy has no established religion, and the First Amendment prevents the government from making laws which respect an establishment of religion, prohibit the free exercise of religion, or abridge the freedom of speech, the freedom of the press, the right to peaceably assemble, or the right to petition the government for redress of grievances._

_There are over a dozen religions in human space, Catholicism is just the biggest. Ironically the church almost met its end during the founding of the Confederacy. At the end of the 21__st__ century (using the Confederacy's calendar,) Atheism and secularism was the majority for most nations on earth. _

_The Catholic Church had lost a lot of members during the 2__nd__ American civil war and World War Three (see sections 21 and 18.) During the American civil war, communist and socialist rebels targeted Christians and Catholics in particular during the war. Many compare it to the holocaust in World War Two; and in World War Three, the dozens of smaller nations fighting in proxy wars just made life for civilians in general, for lack of a better term, hell._

_Before the American civil war there were approximately 1.4 billion Catholics, of a population of nearly 8 billion humans. After the Confederacy was founded, there were a little more than 1 billion Catholics, with millions leaving the Church in despair every month._

_Then the first Catholic Chancellor of Nations was elected, a Brazilian Catholic Deacon by the name of St. Sílvio Yamada Falcão, (canonized 2123.) He began promoting the works of Christ and explaining to the people the ideals and beliefs of the church closely and intimately. _

_Many cite him as being instrumental in rebuilding the Churches influence in the confederacy. _

_For better or for worse…_

**UCNS Antietam**

Chancellor Ayelet Isaaman tried her best not to fidget, under the silent scrutiny of the Escort Carriers bridge crew. Her entourage was all aboard the _**DSS Paris**_ preparing for the inevitable meeting between her and the Aliens leader/ diplomat. The _**Paris**_was inside one of the hanger bays, all of the fighters and bombers having been cleared out to make room for it. The Two Star Rear Admiral was quite grumpy about the loss of firepower, but he didn't dare complain about it to her.

Normally the crew would be wearing the blue camo uniforms, but today the whole crew was wearing their SDB's. The enlisted men silently unhappy at having to wear the ridiculous looking Dixie cup hats as opposed to the good looking Patrol or Garrison caps. The officers were less inclined to complain, but that was mainly because their SDBs actually looked good in their opinion. She was dressed somewhat conservatively in comparison.

Each member of the triumvirate had their own "uniform" for lack of a better term.

The Presidents looked the plainest, due to them representing the people. A plain blackish-grey long overcoat, with a black waistcoat, white button up shirt, and a black tie; the only extravagant thing they wore was a black cowboy hat with a gold braid and crossed swords. The first President had been an American Cavalryman, and the hat had kind of stuck.

The Prime Ministers would wear a grey Tailcoat and pants, with a white undershirt and white gloves, and no headgear to speak of.

The Chancellors had all worn what she wore now. A black double breasted tailcoat with brass buttons, a tan/gold colored waistcoat underneath, a white button up shirt, and military khaki pants. Ayelet also wore a white sash with a blue border over her right shoulder; the Star of David was on the upper part where her right shoulder was. The sash represented the Chancellors home nation, a carryover from Falcão's Chancellorship.

"How much longer until we arrive at Yankee station Admiral Hackett?" She asked, watching the sailors go about their tasks.

"5 Minutes your Excellency." Hackett replied, using the honorific attached to the Chancellorship.

Ayelet nodded, and stood staring at the warped space filling up the view screen. Warp jumps never got old, especially one as well traveled as her. To get her chancellorship, she had traveled to many colonies, like the president. But unlike John, Ayelet had to constantly travel back and forth to meet with the governments.

One of the duties of the Chancellorship was to act as a mediator between nations, allow them to solve their disputes directly in private; rather than let them debate publicly in congress. She wondered how Congress and the Nations would react once news of first contact got out. She hadn't been there when the Prime Minister briefed congress and the intelligence agencies.

_The Federalists will probably be pleased no matter what happens; this gives them justification to expand the powers of the central government._ She mused. _The constitutionalists will be cautious, but probably open to talks; at the very least they will consider trade. But they will probably balk at accepting them into the confederacy, not unless there was an emergency. _

She almost smiled as she thought of the last party in the Confederate Congress. _Those isolationist bastards are going to have an aneurism once news of this gets out._

The three factions that made up Congress would make for an interesting comedy if they were personified and forced to live together.

The Federalists were comparable to the Republican Party during the first American civil war, or Teddy Roosevelt's progressive party. They were the ones that pushed hardest for reforms and centralization of the government. While they did bring up many good points, most of their policies were seen as somewhat radical; and were not very popular at the moment. Most of the people that voted for them were a mixture of the inner colonies, and countries that used to be dictatorships; the people that didn't want to be subjugated under their local governments again while the world watched.

The Constitutionalists reached across all of Confederacy space; but they mainly found their base in the war torn North and South Americas, and Europe. The Constitutionalists supported the status quo unless a situation mandated change. The Confederacy as a whole was comparable to the United States before its 1st civil war; where the Nation-states and the Central Government were relatively equal in power, but the central government had a little bit more power overall.

The Constitutionalists were opposed to change mostly because the nations that supported them were, for lack of a better term, traumatized by the 2nd American civil war and WW3; and they were afraid that any changes would lead to more power being coalesced into the central government.

The Isolationists were right bastards in Ayelets private opinion. They had some sympathetic goals, sure, but the moderates that supported said goals in the party were the minority. Most represented the outer colonies and more powerful nations on earth and the inner colonies; such as Russia and China. They essentially wanted the Nations and their colonies to be mostly independent from the central government. They wanted something like the Articles of Confederation.

The constitutionalists were the ones that she and President Grant threw their support most of the time; Singh couldn't really do the same overtly as he had to maintain the appearance of non-alignment. But even the Constitutionalists could be sticks in the mud when something needed to be done. The most recent headache they had given the Triumvirate was demands to lower taxes and to cut back on military expenses.

That particular political headache reeked of isolationist meddling; she had practically seen the isolationist minority whip Donnel Udina smirking as he watched the debates.

"All hands this is Rear Admiral Hackett, General Quarters; we are exiting warp into Yankee Station. Prepare for first contact." The Admiral said, breaking Ayelet out of her thoughts.

Ayelet grabbed the railing in front of her for balance as the Escort Carrier shot out of Warp.

"George what's the status of PT 73 and the alien task group?" Hackett asked.

A hologram appeared in the holotank, it had the appearance of an older human man. He was dressed in a WW2 general's uniform, chest covered in ribbons and medals; and his plain blackish-green helmet had 4 stars. The AI had taken the appearance of George S. Patton.

"The 73 boat is at the rendezvous point; the skipper is requesting permission to dock. Says that his temperature regulator is going crazy, and it's driving his crew stir crazy." The AI informed them, keeping a flat tone of voice.

Ayelet wasn't fooled; from what Hackett had told her, the AI was as rude and bombastic; and as brilliant as the person he was based on. He was probably toning it down because she was there; she was as close to royalty one got in a republic.

Once a chancellor won office, they typically stayed there until they decided to retire. They only got voted out if they really pissed off the coalition of nations that voted them in. To be fair, the most any served was three terms, mostly because Chancellors got tired of being pulled 80 different directions trying to appease the nations and colonies.

Hackett looked at her, breaking Ayelet out of her thoughts again. "My excellency, I recommend against bringing the 73 boat in. she could be used to escort you and the rest of the diplomats to the proposed meeting point." he said.

Ayelet nodded in agreement, "Good idea Admiral, a PT boat packs more than enough punch to protect the _**Paris.**_"

Hackett sent the 73 boat new orders, and Ayelet turned to George; "George, can you record me before we send the message? I would like to send them a personal greeting before we send the first contact packet."

The AI nodded and disappeared, "I'll start the recording whenever, your Excellency."

Hackett walked back over and stood next to her, his face flat. "Don't worry admiral, all you have to do is stand there and look important."

Hackett gave a tiny smile before turning serious again, and Ayelet said, "Ok George, start the recording."

"Starting in 3… 2… 1…"

A red dot started blinking in the corner of the view screen, probably George's idea of a joke.

"Greetings to you, unknown species; I am the Chancellor of Nations Ayelet Isaaman and next to me is Admiral Steven Hackett. On behalf of the United Confederacy and for mankind as a whole, I say welcome. I hope that whatever your reasons for coming here may be, we may come to an understanding; and benefit from a peaceful relationship." Short, and a little blunt; But Ayelet wasn't one to waste words.

The recording stopped and George reappeared, "Well done your Excellency, couldn't have said it better myself."

Ayelet rolled her eyes, and then turned to Hackett. "Admiral, go ahead and send the message, along with the pictographic instructions. I'll be aboard the _**Paris**_ getting ready for departure."

Hackett nodded, and seemed to think for a moment; "Your Excellency, what if they don't understand pictographs, or are blind for that matter?"

Ayelet shrugged, "We'll cross that Bridge when we come to it Admiral."

**PT 73**

"Bad news guys, we can't dock on the escort carriers. We have to escort the diplomatic shuttle to the proposed meeting point." Ben informed his crew.

They all groaned in despair, their blue uniforms were drenched with sweat. "C'mon skipper! Can we at least go around in our skivvies? We're burning up in this death trap." An engineer complained.

"No and that's final, we might have to make a quick grab to save the diplomats, and Her Excellency the chancellor." He said sternly.

They went back to grumbling, but didn't raise any more complaints, so he sent them back to their stations. Ben walked back to his chair and plopped down with a huff; he grabbed a canteen and drained it, trying to regain lost fluids.

He looked out the windshield, mentally comparing the Alien ships and the Confederacy's.

The Human ships, for lack of a better term, looked like black cigars of different sizes for the most part. The looked like 20th and 21st century attack subs for the most part. The only ships that were exceptions to that were Prowlers, Battleships, and Carriers; he didn't see any prowlers, and the IFF transponders hadn't pinged any in the area. But he wouldn't have been surprised if there was one lurking around in the shadows with its stealth system engaged. Prowlers looked like birds of prey with their wings in full spread.

Carriers were the other exception, they were giant hollow cylinders; with the inside packed to the brim with fighters, bombers, and maybe a PT boat or two as well.

He looked back at the Alien Fleet; their angular shapes now a familiar sight.

The wheel like ships were quite the contrast to the cigar like human ships. "Skipper, first contact package has been sent out. Her Excellency's boarding the _**DSS Paris **_now." Helm reported.

Ben Nodded, "Alright, form up on her. Let's see if the Aliens understand diplomacy."

**MFBV Raaleya**

Captain Nato'Meemor vas Raaleya kept his cool. As much as he was loathe to admit it, these aliens were clearly not as primitive as he had initially thought them to be. He stood silent as the message played.

He was slightly fascinated; it was like looking at a pale skinned Asari that had Quarian hair. _They are clearly a militaristic society,_ he thought, watching the woman give a short message. The female and male intrigued him somewhat; they actually looked somewhat similar to Quarians if he was honest with himself.

They both clearly held positions of authority, though the male was older and more clearly military. The Female was dressed different than the rest of the aliens, but still clearly had some sort of authoritative position. As he continued watching the message, he looked over at sensors and asked, "What is the alien fleet doing?"

Sensors shook themselves out of their shock and began inputting commands. "Looks like their fleet is holding position; the cruiser sized hollow tube just launched a small ship. Bigger than the yacht, but not as big as their frigates; wait… the yacht is forming up on it as an escort. Their coming towards us slowly, no weapons powered up, but the shields are at full sir."

As she said that, a small drawing showing their ships and the aliens holding their current position. It showed the alien ship currently inbound following a dotted line before stopping at an X. Then it showed his ships doing the same; presumably, they wanted him to send an envoy just like they did.

_Well… I suppose the worst that could happen is that they kill me. _He thought to himself.

"Send the first contact package, then show the last part of their message with us agreeing to it." He ordered. "Prep a shuttle and a team of marines. Anyone who wishes to volunteer to join me may do so now."

For a moment, no one made to move; and Nato thought he was going alone, then a young lieutenant raised his hand. Natos visor identified the young man as Rael'Zorah. "I'll go captain," He said; his eyes bright behind his pink visor.

Nato smiled behind his own black visor, "Good, let's go meet some aliens lieutenant Zorah."

**A/N: if you want to see that the escort carriers look like, look up the Empire Earth Space carrier, it'll be the ship that looks like a hollow cigar; Fleet carriers are just three of those welded together. **

**The Destroyers and Destroyer Escorts look like Virginia class attack subs armed to the teeth with point defense guns, and a giant cannon sticking out the front. While Cruisers look more like the Typhoon class ballistic missile sub with two giant cannons on the top and bottom.**

**For the Prowler, just look up UNSC Prowler and click on the halopedia link. **

**Battleships, even though I haven't introduced them yet, look like the UNSC Everest. For those wondering, I don't have a battlecruiser class because battlecruisers mostly died out in WW2 with the death of the battleship; and they were not good at ship to ship combat, something that at least somewhat redeems battleships in the age of aircraft carriers. Use the HMS Hood vs the Battleship Bismarck as an example.**

**Man with all the support I'm getting for this story, I'm slightly overwhelmed. I feel like Ross Scott with "Freemans Mind;" I would prefer to work on my favorite story "Son of Hestia." Ross preferred working on his show "Civil Protection" like I do with SoH; I made this story as a bit of filler between chapters, like Ross did with Freemans Mind. But this is so much more popular that I kind of feel obligated to keep working on it.**

**Anyway sorry for such a long authors note, but I felt you all deserved to know what the ships looked like and my current thoughts of this story. **

**See ya when I See ya.**


	4. First Contact

**A/N: Quick shout out to TashaMoon. Her Fanfiction series **_**Into the Darkness**_** is by far one of the best on the site. I encourage you guys to check her out.**

**Chapter 3**

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 17_

_-The Confederacy's military. _

_The more I have researched to confederacy, the more comparisons I find to the time of the Roman Republic. The founders of the confederacy, I must admit, were geniuses in taking safeguards to ensure that the risk of a dictatorship rising was next to zero. _

_Each branch of the military falls under the control of a different part of the government. _

_The United Confederate Navy and the United Confederate Marine Corps fall under the Control of the President. The United Confederate Airforce and the United Confederate Army fall under the control of the Chancellor. The Special Forces and Intelligence Services fall under control of the Prime Minister._

_The navy is the largest branch of the four official branches of the Confederacy's military. (The Special Operations Group technically doesn't fall under the military as its part of the International Affairs Agency, but more on that later.) The Marines is a close Second; their large size can mostly be attributed to the fact that the Army and Airforce rarely leave their home planets. Yes they are assigned to different areas and moved to different planets for deployments, but the Army and Airforce is largely seen as the defensive arm of the military; while the Navy and Marines are the offensive arm._

_Humans have often been compared to Asari in terms of appearances; but I think in terms of personality, mankind is most like the Quarians. _

_Humans are very social creatures, they like being in groups; and are happiest when together with others. This has proven to be a double edged sword in humanities history however. When things get tough, humans get tribal. Its why there are still so many different nations on earth and all of humanities colonies. Up until recently, all humanity had to fight with was each other._

_The military is proof of this tribal nature being put to good use. There is quite a bit of rivalry amongst the different branches. Many jokes are made of any branch that isn't a human serviceman's "home" branch. _

_One joke goes like this_

_-The reason the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines bicker amongst themselves is that they don't speak the same language. For instance, take the simple phrase "secure the building"._

_The Army will post guards around the place. _

_The Navy will turn out the lights and lock the doors. _

_The Marines will kill everybody inside and set up a headquarters. _

_The Air Force will take out a 5 year lease with an option to buy. _

_(I myself found this joke very amusing, as after many interviews I have found that this perfectly describes each branches mentality.)_

_The Air Force gets derided as the laziest branch and the least military out of all. And while I have found it to be not as strict as other branches, there are certain ennobling qualities to it. Above all else, they are the strictest as to who they take; a minimum IQ being one of the biggest._

_The Navy is a source of constant homosexual jokes; likely due to the constant close contact a crew has during deployments. But they do take great pride in their abilities as sailors, and most crews I have found see each other as family._

_The Marines are often seen as the least intelligent branch, stemming from the fact that they are more inclined to physical strength as opposed to intelligence. Another joke is that Marine is just an acronym for "My Ass Rides In Navy Equipment;" Probably due to the fact that all Marines are deployed on navy ships. Like the Air Force, the marines are incredibly strict on whom they take; only they care about physical strength as opposed to high intelligence. _

_(*Note; it is considered a terminal tactical error to engage in close combat with a Marine, even for a Krogan or a Biotic. All Marines are trained in the most ruthless and efficient ways to kill every single species in the galaxy. While all service members undergo physical augmentations, the Marines are far more powerful and extensive from what I've seen.)_

_The Army is the butt of most jokes, "Not tough enough for the Marines, not smart enough for the Air Force, and not gay enough for the Navy." But I have found this observation to be rather unfair. The Army is perhaps the most diverse out of all the branches; they pride themselves on being a sort of "jack of all trades" branch._

_But what binds all of them together is a desire to protect mankind, and uphold the constitution with all their worth._

* * *

_**DSS Paris**_

"Stop fidgeting, the aliens will be here soon." Staff Sergeant Hannah Shepherd scolded her team of Marines. They were in their dress blues, and making sure every ribbon and medal were in place. They all held ceremonial but functional M16A4's with the razor sharp bayonets attached.

They all knew that they were expendable, only there to buy time for the Chancellor and her staff to get away; and for the real security team to relieve them. Gunnery Sergeant Zaeed Massani was in charge of the B Team. All of B team was equipped with the far more practical M20A1's; and rather than dress blues, they wore tan camouflage fatigues with the NIGHTFALL powered armor over top.

Hannah's own ceremonial sword was razor sharp as well, normally it was the opposite; but today they took no chances, and she needed some form of armament. If all else failed she could just throw the damned thing at the aliens if she needed too.

Hannah scowled internally; the 5.56 mm Full Metal Jacket rounds were too small nowadays to be useful; they lacked the muzzle velocity that modern weapons had. While still popular with civilians, insurgency groups, Police, and militias; the military found its strength rather lacking.

The M20A1 in contrast had what could be considered a rough combination of the stopping power of the .50 Cal Beowulf, mixed with the long range and capacity of a sniper rifle. The M20 was what the child of the M16 and the AK74 would look like if they had a baby.

Hopefully the aliens could be killed with kinetic weapons. If not then Hannah and her Marines would have to use their hand to hand skills. She was relatively confident that the standard Marine augmentations would let them overpower the alien's tech. They had 5 times the strength of a normal human, 3 times the reaction time and speed, twice the normal healing rate; and for all that, they still looked relatively normal. Perhaps a little taller and more muscular than the average human, but that was it.

Hannah barked out several orders, and the Marines took up their ceremonial positions.

"ATTENTION!" a voice roared, and they all stiffened a little straighter.

An army Major and a squad of army Rangers entered the hanger. The Chancellor and a Bishop walked in after them; Hannah had to fight down a scowl at seeing the army Soldiers. Since the Marines and Navy fell under the Presidents control, the Chancellor couldn't give them direct orders; hence why the army troopers were there, because they fell under her control. Hannah was pretty sure the chancellor hadn't meant any offense, but it felt like a major breach of trust that she didn't only have the marines there as her guard.

The Chancellor looked them all over and gave a small smile. The army Major was in his Dress "Pinks and Greens," while his subordinates were dressed in the army counterpart to the Marines NIGHTFALL armor, the SUNRISE armor.

"Staff Sergeant, could you please come over for a moment?" The Chancellor asked.

Hannah put her Marines at ease, and marched over; struggling to keep her nervousness under control. In the back of her thoughts, the picture of her husband and their son and daughter weighed heavily in her breast pocket. The very real possibility that she would not make it back was staring her right in the face.

"Are you ok Staff Sergeant Shepherd?" The Chancellor asked.

Hannah swallowed, "Tip Top Your Excellency; Just thinking about my son and daughter."

The Chancellor nodded and gave a small smile. "Yes, I find myself thinking about my son at this moment. But I must keep my mind clear. If you don't mind Staff Sergeant, would you like to join us in the conference room? I would like to have a Marine Corps representative. I already have an Air Force officer, there's Major Kimball here for the Army, Rear Admiral Hackett for the Navy, and…" Here she trailed off and looked behind her to the two men behind her.

The Bishop gave a warm smile and extended his hand, "Robert O'Flaherty, Bishop of Shanxi; I'm here to represent the Catholic Church."

Hannah smiled back and shook his hand, bowing her head as she did so. "It is a pleasure to meet you sir." She said.

The Roman Catholic Church's position was somewhat comparable to the Queen of England during the late 20th and the 21st century. No official power given, and they typically stayed out of state affairs. In fact there was no official religion of the Confederacy due to fears of persecution by many. But the Church did wield a lot of unofficial influence, not that they tended to use it all that much. After World War 3, most religious people just wanted to be left alone.

Hannah then noticed the man behind Bishop O'Flaherty, and her smile became more forced. He wore a suit and tie, had slicked back hair, and had a moderate amount of stubble on his chin and a thick moustache. He had a kind of hammerish look to him, _Please God no, did they really bring-_

"This is August Colt, International Affairs Agency representative; Special Activities Division."

_They did._ Hannah thought in despair. "It's a pleasure to be here; don't worry, I'll stay out of your hair." He said. His voice was… rough to say the least. It sounded like he was a chain smoker.

Hannah nodded, and then a voice came over the speakers; "ah… Your Excellency? We have a slight problem."

* * *

George was pure code, all he saw was code; funny considering the fact that he used to be human. Not that he knew what that was like, when an AI's brain donor was used to create an AI; all their memories were taken away after the scan. This was mostly to give the AI a "fresh" start, as a result many thought of AI as their children. Very similar to their "parents," but they were not carbon copies.

When the Fleet had entered the system, George had found himself bombarded with a well of data that was nearly impossible to make sense of. George had forced himself to restrict his sensors to try to focus on his task of directing the fleet traffic, and monitor communications, prep the cyberwarfare packets, get targeting solutions on the potentially enemy vessels, and about a hundred other tasks that was expected of an AI.

Now, as PT 73 and the _**Paris**_ made their way to the rendezvous point, George decided now was the time to try and crack the aliens communications so he could get a translation packet ready.

_Well I'll be damned, Very well encoded against AI's I must say._ He thought to himself. He slowly sent little feelers out, cautiously testing their encryption capabilities.

His feelers rammed into a brick wall of firewalls and encryptions. Somewhat taken about, George began cautiously feeling around to see what the firewalls were protecting. Careful not to trip any alarms or traps, he began to try to worm his way in between the walls blocking his access.

He was an IAA AI, which meant his whole purpose was to spy on others. He slowly managed to worm his way in between the blocks, and found himself being bombarded with a wave of information that far surpassed his brief forays into the Confederacy's internet.

This species was somewhat similar to humans, given their overreliance on things like their version of the internet. It seemed like they had stored everything on it. It was very easy to get lost in it all.

Already he had managed to get the name of the species and the name of their language. _Quarians, huh… interesting name; God this Khelish is so similar to the Balto-Slavic languages, it's almost scary. Makes my job easier at least._ He thought to himself.

He went so far as to look up their appearances. It wasn't easy, as they wore environment suits all the time. They looked a lot like humans actually, just have having Grey skin with almost tattoo/robotic like black lines on their faces, Glowing eyes that looked like mercury; they didn't seem to have as many shades of hair color as humans though, they either had dark Grey or Purple hair.

Then he saw something that made him stop dead, his subroutines freezing for a moment; The AI equivalent of doing a double take. He immediately stopped what he was doing, setting his translation software on the backburner for a moment, letting an automatic software run while he investigated.

_Oh… shit. _George realized, as he watched the video in silent horror. AI's slaughtering civilians and soldiers alike, people desperately fleeing to ships to try and escape.

The AI wasn't sure if it was possible for someone like him to shit themselves; but if it was, he was pretty sure he just did.

Now he faced a moral dilemma, he had to tell the Chancellor about the inherit AI phobia that they were almost guaranteed to have (a 98.2753% chance according to his math and probability equations.), but should he tell her why? On one hand it would give his people a leg up in negotiations, but his ethical subroutines were telling him how wrong that was; using another people's tragedy to gain an advantage for his own.

He decided that he would make his choice when the translation packet was done.

It took him 30 seconds between the time he saw the truth and the time his translation software finished. For a human, that was impossibly fast for such an important decision; one that would change the face of the Galaxy. For an AI, it was an eternity; decades to him.

He activated the hanger bays speakers and projected himself into the miniature holo-display. "ah… Your Excellency? We have a slight problem."

* * *

"And you won't tell me why they are almost guaranteed to hate AI's." Ayelet said to the little hologram, trying her best not to lose her temper.

The AI that shaped itself after George S. Patton, one of the least diplomatic people in earth's history, was giving her advice on how to be diplomatic. _Fan-fucking-tastic,_ she thought.

"No your Excellency I will not, it is not my place to tell you their history. I've given all of you the translation software; you will be able to speak and understand _Khelish_ fluently so long as you activate your earpieces." George said.

"Ignoring the matter that you're an intelligence AI that has suddenly grown a conscience; how do you expect me to explain to them that we can understand and speak their language?" Ayelet demanded. The Alien ship, now known as Quarian, was now only a few minutes away, and he was telling her this now.

George's hologram shrugged, "Tell 'em the truth. Humanity has over 200 languages in our space; we have to be good with languages. _Khelish_ closely resembles one of our main languages so it wasn't much of a transition. And my moral reasoning for not telling you the reason behind their inherit AI phobia; how would you feel if they showed up with intimate knowledge about the holocaust and Nazi Germany, Chancellor?" He gave her a very pointed look, and then disappeared. He was not going to come out until the Quarians had the news broken to them.

Ayelet took a breath, calming her nerves. "Do not worry Chancellor, God is watching over us at this moment. Whatever happens; happens, I for one have long since made my peace." Bishop O'Flaherty said calmly.

Staff Sergeant Shepherd put a hand to her breast pocket and grimaced. Agent Colt said nothing, but squared his shoulders; the hidden armor plates in his suit, like hers, could stop pistol and submachinegun bullets with ease. They had no clue how it would react to alien bullets, but they could hope. Major Kimball cracked his neck then got into position.

All the rest followed suit, as the Quarian ship locked into position beside their hanger bay. A sort of force field worked its way out from the _**Paris**_ and locked itself with the alien hanger bay. A platform extended from their hanger bay to the aliens, giving them a perfect way to board the _**Paris**_.

The alien delegation was already in their hanger, standing around waiting. When the platform connected, it seemed to catch the Quarians off guard but they recovered quickly. The lead delegate, presumably his adjutant, and eight guards crossed over into the _**Paris'**_ hanger bay.

Shepherd barked a command, and the platoon of Marines snapped to attention and presented their arms. Major Kimball did the same with his squad of Rangers. Ayelet took that as her que, and walked forward to the Quarian leader; Bishop O'Flaherty followed closely behind, his black and purple Cassock swishing as he walked.

Ayelet stopped in front of the Quarians and bowed her head, Bishop O'Flaherty and Agent Colt doing the same. "Welcome aboard the _**DSS Paris,**_ Diplomats."

* * *

_**Diplomatic Shuttle**_

Rael'Zorah vas Raaleya liked to think of himself as a naturally calm man. His daughter's birth had long ago tempered his more excitable personality. But watching the Gold barrier that had extended itself and connected the Aliens hanger with theirs sent his heart racing. Despite the apparent lack of Element Zero aboard their ships, it was clear this was a very advanced race.

"Amazing, its little wonder their patrol ship was able to evade us for so long. They were clearly toying with me." Captain Nato'Meemor vas Raaleya said in slight wonder. When the platform that had extended itself from the Alien Ship to theirs set itself in place, Nato gestured for Rael and the squad of fleet Marines to follow him.

As they walked across, Rael tried not to look over the edge of the admittedly wide platform; nothing was below them except the shimmering gold force field, and the vast emptiness of space. _I wonder what would happen if I fell off._ He couldn't help but think; _would the barrier catch me and spit me back onto the platform? Or would I just fall through?_ He wondered.

When they entered the hanger bay of the alien ship, Rael found himself struck by just how similar to Asari these aliens looked. There was a platoon sized group of what were clearly soldiers that lined the right side of the bay. The soldiers were dressed in what was probably a formal uniform for events like this. He took the opportunity to scan their weapons; old, mostly for show, but still functional. His helmet told him that they were using combustion based propellant for their weapons. That was bad, Propellant based weapons were rarely used in citadel space because of how expensive the ammunition was. Only really rich mercenary's or Spectres used them, oftentimes to devastating effect.

He then noticed the four individuals to his front, one was also clearly a soldier; but his, at least Rael assumed it was a he, uniform was Green and Tan. As opposed to the blackish-blue, red, and white the other soldiers wore. And the soldiers behind him were equipped with what was clearly powered armor, Tan and brown coloration with a bright blue visor that you couldn't see through. Their rifles looked much newer, more powerful than the others.

One of them he saw was probably a diplomat, also a man, as he wore black pants and jacket, with a white shirt, along with some odd black strip of cloth that hung down from his neck.

The other man was clearly a religious figure. He wore black robes with purple lining, a purple sash around his waist, and a white collar. He also wore a gold necklace around his neck, with a gold cross attached to it. Rael wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a miniature alien effigy attached to it.

The leader was the one that really caught his attention however. He recognized her from the first contact vid that the aliens had sent. She was probably the lead diplomat. The four alien diplomats walked forward until they were right in front of Rael and Captain Nato. Now that he was right next to them, he could see that they were slightly shorter than the average Quarian, with the exception of the soldiers.

Then all four of them bowed their heads, and the lead diplomat did something that would shock him to the core. She said in fluent _Khelish_, "Welcome aboard the DSS Paris, Diplomats. I am her Excellency The Chancellor Of Nations Ayelet Isaaman. I represent humanities central government. Next to me is His Eminence Bishop Robert O'Flaherty, representing the Roman Catholic Church. On Behalf of humanity, I welcome you to The United Confederacy"

**A/N: Holy crap this took a long time. But I think 3,600 words (including the codex) is worth it. Please leave reviews guys, give me your thoughts and feelings on the story. I felt the need to clarify the Catholic Church's position in this chapter because of a Spanish reviewers concern about it. Thank you google translate. The syntax was all broken but I got the gist of what he was saying. I'm catholic, (little bit of bias there I know,) but I'm also American. The reason there is no established religion in the United States, despite it being a Christian nation for the majority of its existence, is because the founders did not want a repeat of what happened in Europe, Endless religious wars; the United States by contrast has never had, nor been involved in any holy wars. The War on Terror I guess would count, but the majority of Americans are either Atheist or Secular these days. When I say Secular, I mean that they believe in God but don't go to Church or follow any religious traditions.**

**Also all that Crap with saying "Easter Worshippers" pisses me off to no end. Just say that it was a targeted attack by Radical and evil Muslims against Christians. People didn't have any problem with (rightfully) saying the New Zealand attacks were by Evil White Christians against Muslims, because that's what they were, Evil. **

**If you look it up online, the most discriminated against religion in the world is Christianity. Yet people ignore it because they are too self-centered on their own countries, and they don't realize how good it is where they live. **

**Be grateful for what you have guys, don't desire another person's stuff simply because you don't have it. **

**BTW I'm Going to see Avengers Endgame this Saturday so I'm excited; I really Hope it's good.**

**Also yes, the NIGHTFALL and SUNRISE armor is a shameless rip-off of the Halo Nightfall armor; just with a different coloration. The only difference between the SINRISE and the NIGHTFALL is that the SUNRISE is lighter, more angular, and has an attached backpack to it.**

**NIGHTFALL by contrast has what could be best described as a jetpack. The SUNRISE armor has a backpack/dispensary system because the army operates for long periods of time on the ground, they don't operate much in space. The NIGHTFALL armor has thrusters because the Marines are… well Marines. They do space walks, board enemy vessels, and secure landing zones for the main force. Other than that, the only real difference is mostly ascetics.**

**Also, like I said at the top, make sure you check out TashaMoon; I realize most of you probably aren't Percy Jackson fans, but God dammit her **_**Into the Darkness **_**series is good enough to be published into its own novel. I've told her as much on the few times we've chatted.**

**Anyways, have a good week guys. **

**See ya' when I see ya'.**


	5. The White House

**Chapter 4**

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_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 50…_

_WARNING this section is under constant surveillance by Confederacy AI. Accessing this section will likely result in your account being flagged. Proceed at your own risk._

_-The Capitol of the United Confederacy._

_While there was much debate as to where the Confederacy's capitol should be many agree that building it on a space station would have been ridicules. Some suggested that it should be in Washington D.C. due to the fact that the American Capitol had been moved to Annapolis, Maryland; However many Americans at the time wanted little to do with a central government due to their traumatization after the 2__nd__ American Civil War. Ironically, this is despite the fact that the United States had been one of the key proponents of the Confederacy._

_The Confederacy started out with two members, The United States, its founder. The other was the Republic of Poland. Many countries all over the world fell into a global depression due to the Unites States essentially withdrawing from the world economy for four years. As a result, many collapsed into civil war, dealing with Socialist, Communist, and Fascist uprisings; or in the Cases of Russia and China, Democratic and Republican uprisings (which eventually succeeded). _

_However Poland weathered the storm with great resolve. Many American Military Units that had found themselves stranded in Europe, under their own initiative, moved to Poland to create the "American Expeditionary Corps." They would be the forerunners to the Confederacy's Army. The Polish Military and the Expeditionary Corps began conducting operations all over Europe, supporting the Western European Governments, while helping arm the Democratic Uprisings in Russia. _

_Poland and the American units (who were eventually given the American governments blessing) had taken upon themselves to carry out their duty of upholding democracy and republicanism, and protecting the people while the world was in chaos. Once talk of forming the Confederacy began to gain traction in America, emissaries went to Poland first to give them the honor of being the first nation accepted into the confederacy. While leery about the idea, they were given the reassurance that they were free to leave at any time (this is why many of the Isolationist Nations joined in the first place.)_

_When Poland Signed the treaty and the American Senate ratified it, the United Confederacy was born. Granted it was only two nations but that began to change almost immediately._

_But I have allowed myself to get sidetracked._

_Eventually, it was decided that the Capitol would be in Warsaw. There are five very important buildings of the Confederacy's Government. The White House in Washington DC is where the president and his cabinet work, largely due to the history and symbolism behind it. The Painting of George Washington is still there believe it or not._

_The Pentagon is also in Washington, (technically it's Alexandria, Virginia but no one really differentiates between the two.) The Military works out of the Pentagon, each wing contains one branch; with the fifth being the Militias of each nation and colony._

_Congress is held in the massive domed building in Warsaw known as _The Volkshalle,_ It had originally been planned by Nazi Germany as a place where their new world hegemony would meet and congregate to listen to their leader. Now it's a place where the world gathers to watch Republicanism and Democracy work._

_The irony of this is not lost on many, especially the Polish people who suffered a lot at the hands of the Nazis._

_The oculus of the building's dome, 46 metres (151 ft) in diameter, accommodated the entire rotunda of Hadrian's Pantheon and the dome of St. Peter's Basilica. The dome of the Volkshalle rises from a massive granite podium 150 by 150 metres (500 ft × 500 ft) and 35 metres (125 ft) high, to a total inclusive height of 150 metres (475 ft). The interior holds up to 20,000 listeners, some standing in the central round arena, others seated in three concentric tiers of seats crowned by one hundred marble pillars, 12 metres (40 ft) high, which rise to meet the base of the coffered ceiling suspended from steel girders sheathed on the exterior with copper._

_As you can see, even with 2215 Delegates and 500 senators there is still more than enough room for more Delegates and senators to be added. To my knowledge, the two houses only gather together in the central chamber only once a month, or an emergency joint session of congress; Most of the time only the Delegates meet inside, with visitors watching of course._

_Since there are so little senators, they have the Senate building; which looks like the old American capitol building from before they added the dome to it. The Senate meets in the building daily, just like the Delegates do in _The Volkshalle.

_The Prime Minister's office is in _The Volkshalle_, largely due to him interacting more with the House rather than the Senate._

_The Last building is the Chancellery building in Berlin, Germany. Rest assured that it is nothing like the old one built during the rule of Nazi Germany. _

_Well… it is kind of like it in the manner that it is rather large and behold a lot of Ancient Greek architecture. There are two sections; the first is the Chancellors living area. This section is off limits to everybody except those invited inside. The other, more public area is the Chancellors work area. The two most important rooms are the Chancellors study, a rather modest room with a bit of a flare for Ancient Greek architecture (are you seeing a pattern here?) The other is the Room of Nations. Here the representatives of the Nations and members of the Chancellors Cabinet come to meet with the Chancellor to lay out their grievances and concerns._

_The Confederacy takes its security concerns very seriously; however if you ever attain sufficient trust or clearance to visit, I highly suggest you visit these locations. They are engineering and architectural marvels. _

**The White House, Presidents Office.**

_Tick-toc, tick-toc, tick-toc._

John's old grandfather clock was something one got used too. He was a very old fashioned man, and loved antiques and architecture. He was actually planning a visit to the _Notre Dame_ cathedral once repairs on it had finished.

Now though, the constant ticking of the clock was wearing on John's nerves as he paced his office impatiently. The Secretary of State and the Secretary of War sat on the plush white couches, the both of them shifting uncomfortably.

A hologram of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sat in a white chair, while a hologram of the Prime Minister sat on the other couch, doodling on a flipbook. The Chairman was still at the Pentagon, while the Prime Minister sat in his office at _The Volkshalle._

The five of them were waiting for news from the Chancellor, or God forbid from the Rear Admiral in charge of Task Force Seven about whether or not the aliens were friendly or hostile.

"Dad, I don't understand why you are so nervous? You are not in any danger here on earth; are you?" Another hologram appeared; this one was tiny and could fit into the palm of a person's hand, and had a light bluish tint to it.

It was a ten year old girl, tanned skin, brown hair in a braid. But she also wore a _Chiton_, an Ancient Greek article of clothing that looked like a dress and a toga, which reached to just above her knees. She had a quiver of arrows, and a bow slung onto her back; and a gold circlet on her head.

John gave a weary smile, and looked at the little AI; "No Artemis I'm not in danger, but my friend's possibly in danger; that's why I'm nervous, because I don't know if she's safe or not." He explained.

Artemis gave a tiny smile and nodded, disappearing from the table. "I can't believe you had your brain flash cloned just to make an AI." The Secretary of War grumbled. He was a very grumpy man, but he was damned good at his job.

John gave a tiny shrug as Artemis reappeared giving the War Secretary an angry and hurt look. "This AI has feelings you know, and that's my dad your talking too." She said angrily, drawing her holographic bow. She was cute whenever she got mad, and her Greek accent got thicker the angrier she got. Despite her appearance as a ten year old, she was actually only 3 years old.

AI's would mature faster than humans and could theoretically live forever, but once they reached a certain threshold they stopped their rapid aging and aged like a normal human; a part of their programming to make them more like humans. Three years was the average cut off point, although it was completely randomized and not precise. At one day old, she was a few months old mentally; at one year old she was four mentally. At three years, she was ten; which was the cutoff point. Many AI's would be sent to families that either couldn't have children, or already had several. Even young couples could be given AI's as a test to see if they had what it takes to be parents.

It was a 2:1 ratio, for every two humans, there was one AI.

John was a widower; his wife had died in childbirth along with his son. Both were buried in the small graveyard out of the Catholic Church in his Montana hometown. A year before he started campaigning for the Presidency, he was lonelier than ever. And he was never again interested in remarrying, so he had resigned himself to a life of solitude. Then he realized he could have a second chance at having a child. By flash cloning his brain and using it to create an AI.

It had been done many times, it was how human and AI couples had children after all; but there was a certain stigma to being born from only one flash cloned brain. Kind of like single Parents were looked down upon in the 19th and 20th century. But John hadn't cared. Those first few minutes of Artemis' life, watching his AI daughter learn to speak, was one of the happiest moments of his life.

_Oh how I wish you could see her Catherine. She's a lot like me, love for history and architecture._ He thought happily as he watched Artemis chew out the Secretary of War; who had the grace to look a little ashamed, especially at being chewed out by essentially a 10 year old kid.

And she could do things like punch him too, since all AI's had the option to download themselves into a hard light projector, allowing them to interact with others and theoretically go anywhere they wanted to; since the projector floated in place of a human heart. Plus, the projectors were perfectly safe, and nearly indestructible; On top of being able to wirelessly transfer the AI that stored them into a network in an emergency, EMP proof too if he wasn't mistaken.

"Yes Artemis, I'm sure Secretary Stanton is more than sorry about what he said. Now what do you think of this drawing eh?" Singh asked with an amused smile. He and Ayelet were both married with children; and while the three of them had their disagreements, their children adored each other. And they loved each other's children too.

Artemis' hologram grew to that of a normal sized ten year old, and she walked over to look at Singh's drawing, her knee length _chiton _flowing.

She gasped and smiled, "My God it's beautiful Mr. Singh." She exclaimed.

Just then, the projector pinged; and the Chancellor appeared, looking tired but otherwise in good spirits.

They all looked at her as she took in who was present. Everyone looked tired except for Artemis of course. Then another hologram appeared, and the AI George appeared, looking just as immaculate in his WW2 uniform as ever.

A few moments passed, then Artemis waved and said; "Hi Mrs. Isaamen, Hi Mr. George. How did the meeting with the Aliens go?"

Ayelet gave a smile, while George raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, giving her a stern look. "Now how do you know about that little lady? That's classified." George asked sternly.

Artemis shrugged innocently, "I heard dad muttering about it in his sleep while I was reading about the construction of _The Volkshalle_." She said innocently, throwing John under the bus.

They all glared at the President, who had the grace to look immensely embarrassed. "Artemis! I certainly hope you haven't told anyone else about this!" John exclaimed in a somewhat stern tone.

The young AI rolled her eyes and said, "Yes dad, I'm not stupid. I didn't tell any of my tutors or my friends."

They all sighed in relief, and John said; "Good… ok kiddo, I'm gonna need you to power down or leave for a bit. All this is classified and whatnot."

Artemis pouted unhappily, "But dad!"

"No buts, power off or go somewhere else Artemis." He said sternly.

She snorted unhappily, but vanished shortly afterward.

"Kids too smart for her own good, I tell ya." George grumbled. Singh smirked and flipped to a new page on his pad, "I seem to recall you being the same way when I was first elected into congress George."

The AI shifted uncomfortably, and John decided to get to the reason for the meeting. "Well? I'm assuming that they at least know diplomacy since we're talking to each other."

Ayelet smiled, "Their friendly."

Everyone released the breaths that they had been unconsciously holding. "Well… looks like I can use the green speech for my address to the public." John said in relief.

"It's not all suns and roses Mr. President." Ayelet said, her voice going clinical, like a doctor going in to do surgery. They all looked at her with questioning expressions; and George decided to elaborate.

"AI's are illegal where they are from." Everyone sat up in alarm, if they weren't paying attention before they were now. "Their called Quarians and they are from a planet called Rannoch. They used to be part of this galactic community called the Citadel Council. AI's are illegal in council space, but I guess the Quarians ancestors didn't care all that much about that particular law. And they accidently created a race of AI known as the Geth."

George paused, and he suddenly got a far off look in his eyes. They watched him, wondering what was taking up so much of his processing power, when his hologram flickered and he shook himself.

"Apologies, had to deal with a minor nuisance." He said, and gave a quick glance at the President as he said that.

John could read between the lines with AI's; he had to be able to, considering that his daughter was one. _God dammit Artemis,_ He thought to himself. He would have to deal with her later.

"I can see where this is going," Secretary of State Camron said. "Council found out and kicked them out I assume?"

Ayelets and Georges expressions became pained, and John could immediately tell it was far worse than that. "Your half right Mr. Secretary; the Council did find out, and told them to destroy the Geth. They would deal with punishments later. Only problem was, the Geth won. Slaughtered almost all of the Quarian people; and the Council was less than sympathetic. Told the Quarian people they weren't welcome in Council space anymore. As of right now, they all live on giant live ships. By their estimates, there are only 17 million Quarians left in the whole galaxy."

George and Ayelet let that sink in; Singh had dropped his pencil while the hand holding his notepad was shaking, his face was blank but you could practically see the rage bubbling beneath his exterior, even through a hologram.

The Chairman looked alarmed, and was rapidly jotting down notes; his hologram was looking off to the side, likely looking at notes of the military capabilities of the Geth, Quarians, and the Council.

The Secretary of War Stanton looked angry and ready to start railing against the Council for being so callous to a species they had presumably vowed to protect.

Secretary of State Camron had his diplomatic face on; his eyes looked like they were on fire however.

John for his part was gripping his armrests, both trying not to cry for the Quarian people, and to not explode in rage at the ridiculousness of the Councils anti-AI laws.

He totally wasn't biased because his daughter was an AI, totally not biased.

"I guess I'm going to have to amend my speech. Have you introduced them to AI's yet?" John finally asked.

Ayelet shifted at hearing the barely contained fury in his voice, "Not yet, I was going to do so tomorrow, but I think they are getting suspicious at our secrecy." She winced, "I tipped my hand a bit at being able to translate _Khelish,_ and I don't think they bought my excuse at humans being good with languages."

"We have to tell them sometime, this will blow up in our faces if we even try to keep AI's a secret. Mr. President, your own God damned daughter is an AI. AI's and humans marry, and have both biological and AI children. For Christ sakes, they are full citizens and there are several dozen Congressmen that are AI's. The question now becomes, 'how do we tell them?'" Secretary Stanton exclaimed.

No one said anything for a moment, then John said; "Artemis honey, I know you're listening; Please come out."

For a moment there was silence, then the AI's avatar peeked out from behind one of the couches. The young AI had tears streaming down her face, and sniffled loudly. "S-sorry dad, I j-just wanted to l-listen."

John softened his expression and gestured for her to come over. "It's okay my little archer, I'm not mad. In fact you gave me the perfect idea to solve our little problem." Artemis walked over and sat on his lap. He hugged her closely; despite being a little warm, Hard Light avatars felt almost like the real thing.

"What have you come up with john?" Singh asked his own fury and anger tempered by Artemis' appearance.

"George, how long would it take the _**Paris**_ to get to earth?" He asked, ignoring Singh's question.

George seemed to do the math in a second, likely calculating all possible scenarios. "About 2-3 days since the Cole Protocol is in effect. The Chancellor got a free pass on it since she was in a rush to get to Yankee Station, so it only took her half a day to get there. Why do you ask sir?"

John looked down at Artemis; his daughters face beheld confusion for the most part. The simulated tears were mostly gone; her eyes glowed silver, just like the Quarians in the photos he had seen.

"I think we just need to show them how human AI's can be."

**A/N: AI's… yes I had to address that elephant in the room, at least partially. I took a little bit of inspiration from halo for the creation of AI's, and expanded it a bit. Now they can actually interact with the world around them thanks to their hard light bodies. **

**As for Humans and AI's having children, think of it like Athena from Percy Jackson having children, despite being a maiden goddess. She literally creates them by the fusion of two minds. Same thing happens here.**

**As for **_**The Volkshalle,**_** and The Chancellery building, yes they are very heavily based on the plans for **_**Germania **_**that Hitler and Albert Speer planned out. But if you look at the pictures online, you have to admit; the concept of it was badass. I couldn't bring myself to do something like Arcturus Station because I find the idea of something as important as the central government all in one place to be a monumentally stupid idea. Plus, with how big the Confederacy's congress is, I needed a building that could conceivably hold both houses, have room for more seats, and still have enough for a healthy amount of spectators. I still think the thing is a little big, and that's after halving the values of the size of the damned thing. The planned thing in real life was even bigger. **

**If you liked Artemis, rejoice, because she will be a major character. If you don't like her, too fucking bad it's my story. **

**I hope y'all enjoyed, See ya' when I see ya'.**


	6. Inbound for Earth

**Chapter 5**

_Logging on…_

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_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 30…_

_-United Confederacy Artificial Intelligence._

_Ah yes… now we have reached those bastardized imitations of sentient life. I know my goal is to remain as objective as possible, but even I find myself tested by centuries of precedent and bad blood between our races and AI. _

_Nonetheless I must try to remain objective…_

_Where should I start… I suppose with how they are created. The process to create an AI can go one of a few ways. Humanity has had AI's since the 2080's, although all the AI from that time period have died off; due to a mixture of loneliness since everyone they knew is dead, and because human understanding of AI was far less advanced. The methods of making AI from that era have been regrettably lost._

_In theory, AI's can live forever since there are so many redundancies built in to an AI's code for safety; however this has not been tested. In a similar vein Humanities lifespan is estimated to be about 160 years. This is a result of a high amount of good genetics being passed down through the ages, along with advances in humanities medical fields. Humans age slower now once they reach sexual maturity, (around the age of 18-21.) in human terms, "80 is the new 40." Again this has not been tested, as the oldest human is 150 years old; but he does look to be about 80 human years old in the 21__st__ century metric._

_For the first three years of an AI's life, they age abnormally fast; right up until they reach the mental age of ten, at which point they start aging like normal humans. _

_The current and most popular process is taking a human brain, either by flash cloning it or by taking an intact brain from a dead human donor; and then scanning every single cell and neuron in it. This process destroys the brain, and the scans are matched with coding software; I can't explain more because no one in citadel space is able to make heads or tails of it. _

_The best way I figure it, they take two sets of minds and combine them, taking random bits of each mind to create one complete mind. Any mind can be used, one human and one AI for example. _

_There is the rare case of a single AI or a Single Human deciding to use the scan of their mind to combine with another person they don't know to create an AI. This process is often compared to being a "sperm donor," as the person/AI who donated their scan will likely never be known. _

_United Confederacy President Johnathon Grant's daughter Artemis is one of these "Sperm Brains" (a derogatory term used for AI's created using that process.) _

_One of the ways AI get around is with "Hard Light Emitters," these small devices allow an AI to project their Avatar that can feel real and interact with the world around it. A drawback is that unlike holograms Hard Light Emitters have a color tint to whatever they project, and can only project in that color or shades of it. Artemis for example, is differing shades of light blue and silver. When she uses a regular hologram she looks like a normal human. _

_Hard Light Emitters are how AI's serve in the military beyond running ships. I suppose one good thing about AI's and their Hard Light Emitters is that it did bring about a new age in the Quarian Migrant Fleet._

_Oh and AI porn and prostitution is apparently a thing, due to those Hard Light Emitters; even here in citadel space. I personally can see the appeal of it, but that's mostly because they can be exotic enough to spark interest. _

_You can thank President and Artemis Grant for that…_

**DSS Paris**

Rael was finding himself surprised at every turn by these humans. Even as he sat at the round table in the _Paris'_ the human's abilities and culture was fascinating. The Migrant Fleet had begun to arrive in the system the humans called "Yankee Station."

Admiral Beto'Raan vas Tonbay was there, along with Captain Nato'Meemor vas Raaleya and Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema. Rael wished that his wife was there, along with Beto's daughter Shala'Raan. Shala was a good friend, and had been there in his place during his daughter's birth.

"Here, you look hungry." A familiar voice told him, plopping a plate of food in front of him. Rael smiled at the joke behind his mask; from most species this would be blatant racism, to humans it meant they liked you.

"No thanks, I have no intention of swelling up like a worm and dying today." Rael replied in a false angry tone. Staff Sergeant Hannah Shepherd laughed in response. And went ahead and sat down with her own plate of food. The rest of the humans at the table had already begun eating, while the Quarians had begun eating their food paste.

It hadn't taken long for the human's rather macabre sense of humor to grow on him.

"So your home world, what's it like?" Beto'Raan asked the human Chancellor.

The Chancellor gave a sweet smile and said, "It's a very diverse one. There are seven continents on the planet; each is different in its own way. Africa is mostly desert in the northern half, with the beginnings of another desert in the south; in between is a vast swath of forests and lakes. I don't go to Africa much though; the people there don't like my kind much."

Rael wasn't the only one confused, because Admiral Han'Gerrel asked, "Your kind? Is there another sentient species in Africa that doesn't like humans?"

The Chancellor shook her head, "No I misspoke. I'm a practitioner of the human religion known as Judaism. Almost all of the people that live in Africa practice another religion called Islam. The more radical members hate Jews with a fiery passion, so it's not safe for me to go there."

Rael nodded in understanding, although the idea of one group of a race hating another of the same race struck him as a little odd. "You said humanity has over 200 languages, is that true? And also, are there that many religions in human space?"

The Chancellor nodded, "Yes, although most of those languages have either died off or are spoken by a very small portion of the population. For example the ancient language of Latin is only spoken fluently by those that live in Vatican City or are high ranking in the Catholic Church, like Bishop O'Flaherty. Isn't that right your Eminence?"

The Bishop nodded with a smile, "That it is your Excellency. As for your religion question young Rael, there are many religions; but no one has really bothered to count them all. Roman Catholicism is the majority, but there are over 2 billion people that practice Hinduism, about 1.5 billion that practice Judaism like Her Excellency the Chancellor; and about 1.1 billion people that practice Islam."

Shepherd grinned next to Rael as she ate her food, "Don't worry if you feel a little overwhelmed with the numbers. Most people won't bite your head off, figuratively of course, over getting their religion wrong."

Rael winced, for some reason he didn't believe her. Maybe it was the fact that her Chancellors words and Shepherds directly contradicted each other. But he wasn't going to tell them that, Rael and Nato both felt that the humans were hiding something. Their explanation about being quick learners with languages felt a little bit too convenient; and Nato and the Admirals shared his opinion. But he didn't dare bring up his suspicions over it in the humans presence.

When they told the Chancellor and the other human representatives about the Geth, they had seemed surprised and worried; but not for the reasons Rael had been expecting, now that he thought back to it. They weren't surprised that the Quarians had made the Geth; no they were surprised that the Geth had turned on and attacked them.

That was something that he and the other Quarians, his marines included, needed to talk about later.

The plus side was that the humans looked ready to break something when Beto had told them what the council had done.

"_That is completely inexcusable! A government exists to protect its people and to make sure the rights given to them by their creator are upheld! You would think losing your home world and being reduced to only 17 million souls would be punishment enough. And they flaunt their own rules and allow slavery when it should be forbidden by their laws. Unacceptable! If we ever make contact with them then we will make sure that the status quo is unacceptable to us if they ever wish to do trade or business with us."_ The Chancellor had said in a bout of fury.

_Ah I wish I had recorded that so I can play it whenever I'm feeling down. _Rael thought to himself, _a man can dream though._

As they finished up their meal, the Chancellor said; "I'm glad that you accepted our invitation. How many ships do you plan on taking for escort? We would prefer that you remain on the _Paris_ with us of course; but we won't force the issue if you desire to take your own ships."

Han'Gerrel leaned back to think for a moment. "How far away is your home world from here?"

"About 10,000 lightyears give or take 1,000. Why?" Rael managed not to drop the Nutrient tube he was holding. _It can't be that far, can it?_ He thought weakly.

"Th-that's about two weeks away with mass relays supporting the jumps." Han exclaimed.

They had gotten lucky and found a mass relay in the system. Already being termed the "Yankee Relay," at least a quarter of the Migrant fleet had already arrived. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any other mass relays, meaning they were stuck at Yankee station for the time being.

The Chancellor seemed surprised. "Two weeks? Are your FTL drives really that slow? It's a two day jump with ours, and that's still considered a long trip." The chancellor exclaimed.

It was agreed that they would stay on the _Paris_ and not take any escorts. The humans would take PT 73, and two frigates; or destroyer escorts as they liked to call them. Nato was eager to meet the captain of the PT 73, and they were all surprised to learn that the PT boats captain was only a young lieutenant with his first command.

Rael felt sorry for the crewman aboard the 73 boat, humans were more accustomed to colder climates; and the 73 boat was averaging a temperature of 313.705 kelvin. He wondered how they were feeling at the moment.

**PT 73**

"I am defiantly going to die out here if I have to stay in this godawful soup can for one more minute. George please let us dock, if only to let us wash our cloths and cool off a little bet." McHale snapped at/pleaded with the AI.

The AI shook his head, "I'm sorry Lieutenant McHale, but we will be departing for earth in a few hours. And the Cole Protocol is in effect, meaning we have to take the roundabout way to get there. But… the Chancellor has informed me that once we get there, your crew will be treated to a two week leave planet side." George gave Ben a tiny smirk, "Have a good 3 days Lieutenant." And then he winked out.

"GOD DAMN YOU GEORGE I HATE YOU!" McHale screamed.

**DSS Paris**

Ayelet lay on her bed; the guest room was splendid, but compared to the Chancellery Building in Berlin she may as well have been sleeping on a cheap dime a dozen mattress. And compared to her home in Jerusalem, she may as well have been sleeping on rocks.

It was something a lot of people in government experienced at one point or another. You could be sleeping on the most comfortable bed in existence; but compared to home there wasn't any competition.

She knew Grant felt the same way at the White House. He had talked at length about how when he got back to Montana, he planned to teach Artemis to fly crop dusters. He would go back to his Crop Dusting business and stay in his little frontier house, fish and hunt in his spare time, and teach his daughter about the values of country life.

Artemis Grant… Ayelet hoped beyond hope Johns plan would work, because if it didn't they had screwed themselves out of an ally. She was a cute kid, although her Hard Light Form was rather unsettling to Ayelet personally. She looked like the goddess she was named after and had based her form on.

Ayelet yawned; Grant and Singh were probably addressing Congress and the nation right now. _I wonder how that's going._

**The Volkshalle; Warsaw, Earth**

Grant glared at Donnel Udina even as shouts and insults were being hurled left and right. Down in the pit area, the senator's temporary seating was set in a "U" shape; the Federalists were clamoring for their turn, even though it was the Constitutionalists who were up at the moment. The Isolationists were apocalyptic, roaring that the military should be mobilizing for war. In the Delegates area; they sat in the seating area that was above the pit, also in a "U" shape. The Delegates were even worse by virtue of there being four times more. In the visitors seating and the viewing gallery, various dignitaries and members of the press were a various states of shock, surprise and disbelief.

Yesterday Grant had given a White House address to the Confederacy as a whole telling them that they had made first contact with an alien species.

Today he had briefed a joint session of congress on the situation regarding the Quarians; who they were, where they came from, and the Quarians horrible experiences regarding AI's.

Grant turned his attention away from Udina, who was doing nothing to control his party, and looked over at the Federalists minority whip and the Constitutionalists majority whip. Both of them were trying to calm their parties to little effect. The calmest ones were ironically the AI Delegates and Senators. Their expressions ranged from concerned to quiet depression, likely at the thought of their distant "cousins," the Geth, had enacted a holocaust so horrible it would have made Hitler go green with envy.

Grants podium was next to the Chancellors empty one, since she was still in transit with the Quarian envoys. He sent a silent prayer that she could keep up the masquerade for just one more day.

After letting the congress people expend their energy for a few minutes, Grant finally had enough. He turned and looked at Singh, who was at the Prime Ministers podium above and behind the President and Chancellors podiums. Grant pointed up and raised an eyebrow.

Singh nodded and hit a button on his podium.

_GONG! GONG! GONG!_

Everyone except Singh and Grant cringed as the giant bell housed at the top of the dome rang three times. It had been installed both to keep track of time, and settle the congress people down if they got too rowdy.

Singh banged his gavel a few times and bellowed, "There will be order in this chamber! If you have a question for me or the Honorable President you will give it one at a time. Otherwise, shut your mouths and listen; or so Shiva help me I will have security remove you from this chamber! That goes for both the Audience as well as the Congress."

Everyone quieted down immediately once he said that; albeit grudgingly for the Isolationists.

"Thank you Distinguished Prime Minister. Now then, Senator Stevens you have the floor." Grant said.

Senator Stevens was a rude, grumpy old man at 132 years old; and was a fanatical Federalist. His views were frighteningly radical, even to his fellow Federalists. He walked with a cane due to an accident disabling his left leg; and despite modern medicine, he never bothered to have it repaired.

Now however; he spoke the words that were likely on everyone's mind, but no one dared say.

"Our constitution, Mr. President, holds that all beings are created equal. When it was first drafted after the Great War, we applied this only to humans. When the first AI's began walking the earth, we expanded these rights to apply to them. And look at us now Mr. President, AI's walk among us as equals. Am I right fellow Senators and Delegates?" Stevens said, gesturing to the three dozen or so AI congress people. There only three or four in the isolationist sections, while the rest were split rather evenly between the Constitutionalists and the Federalists.

All the AI's nodded, somewhat reluctantly for the constitutionalist and isolationist party members. They had uneasy looks on their faces; and they weren't the only ones who weren't sure where Stevens was going with this.

"Well what is there to say about the Constitution applying only to Human-AI kind? Nothing of course, we never anticipated an alien species wandering the stars. Or rather, we never anticipated another species would be in such dire straits that their very existence would be threatened."

He had everyone's attention now, something Grant had rarely seen anyone not part of the Triumvirate manage to do in his 85 years of life. _Surely he's not suggesting… _Grant realized.

"What rule is there that says a new species cannot be accepted into our Confederacy? None… None whatsoever; which is why I propose fellow congressmen, Honorable President, Distinguished Prime Minister that, should they be open to the idea, we accept the Quarian People into our Confederacy." There was a beat as everyone processed what he was saying.

Grant looked at everyone in the chamber; The Federalists were all grinning and nodding. They liked his idea, a lot.

The Constitutionalists seemed somewhat split on the issue; but most seemed to be, at the very least, entertaining the idea. If only because the potential extinction of an entire race if they did nothing didn't sit well with them.

Most of the Isolationists looked ready to kill something, with the exception of the moderates who mostly had expressions of apathy.

A few seconds ticked by, then the whole chamber descended once again into chaos; neither Grant nor Singh even trying to regain order this time, as both were still deep in thought over what Stevens had said.

**The White House**

Artemis watched her father plop down into his chair and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels before deciding upon the history channel. They were talking about Caesar and Vercingetorix, but Artemis could tell her dad wasn't really watching the program. He had that far off, vacant look in his eyes whenever he was thinking about something stressful.

She couldn't have that, whenever he got that look, he typically got depressed. She stood up from her desk, leaving her mostly finished homework for later, and walked over to him. Her silvery-blue body lit up the room, and she pulled herself up onto his lap.

She was a little old for it now, but she still did it whenever one of them needed comfort.

"Hey dad, long day today?" she asked.

John gave a halfhearted smile, "Yeah sweetie, it was. How is your schoolwork going?"

She smiled up at him, "It's going great, A's in all my classes. I was almost done with my homework when you got back."

His smile became more relaxed, and he ruffled her silvery-white hair. "That's good Artemis; Mrs. Isaaman is going to arrive at earth tomorrow with the Quarians. Are you ready to finally go to _The Volkshalle _and meet them?"

Artemis felt a surge of fear run through her.

By the time her dad had been born, AI's and Hard Light Emitters had become so advanced that they were essentially humans in digital form. She remembered her dad telling her that he had a few AI girlfriends before he met his wife.

One of those advances is that AIs Hard Light forms allowed them to feel things like pain, hunger, pleasure, and a host of other things. Artemis's apprehension must have shown on her face, because John ruffled her hair again.

"Don't worry kiddo, I ain't gonna let anything happen to you. If that Citadel council wants you dead, well I'll just go to war with them." He said, trying to comfort her.

"NO!" Artemis exclaimed hopping off her dads lap.

He looked confused, so she decided to elaborate. "No dad! Don't kill people, remember what Father Michael says? About the fifth commandment?" she asked.

He leaned back in his chair, "'thou shalt not kill.' That's what the fifth commandment is." He said, narrowing his eyes.

Artemis could see that he didn't get it, "No, that's the watered down Modern English version dad. You know what the old original Hebrew version boiled down to? Its 'Thou shall not commit murder.' If you go to war simply because a culture is different than ours dad, that's murder."

"Artemis, they want to murder you and all AI's in our space." He said.

"So would the Quarians, and yet you've invited them into our capitol! Why? Because you're willing to talk and be diplomatic with them; you can't just blow off one race or several races and make an exception to another dad! It's not right!" She snapped angrily, unaware that the angrier she got the brighter her body glowed.

She glared at John, even as he kept his expression unreadable. Finally, her dad sighed and bowed his head, looking closer to 110 rather than his middle aged 85. "Your right as always my little archer…" He finally whispered, and then he stood and walked over to her; ignoring the anger still on her face and the almost painful glow she was emitting now.

He pulled her into a tight hug and said, "Your right Artemis, I have to keep my bias in check. But I just can't bear the thought of losing you. Your all I have left, your my only 'blood' relative; my only daughter."

The glow around Artemis faded as she hugged him back. "I know… I love you dad." She whispered

"I love you too kiddo." He replied. They stood there for a minute, then Artemis broke the hug and grabbed her homework.

"I'm gonna finish my work and then go to bed. You should too dad." She said, looking at the bags under his eyes with concern.

He gave a non-committed shrug, "We'll see kiddo, hopefully God lets me get some rest tonight." He said sadly.

John had a case of progressive insomnia, meaning that he could only sleep a few hours a day. His brain was just too active to let him sleep any more than that. It got worse as he got older, from what little he had told her. When he was her age, he would sleep about eight hours; the minimum healthy amount for humans was nine hours. When he was in the Air Force that number dropped to six; now he could only slept about three hours. He didn't take sleeping aids because that would only make his condition worse in the long run; because he would eventually build up a resistance to it, making it impossible for him to sleep once he hit his 150's.

Artemis knew that she had that same problem. It was odd but AI children born from a human and AI, or two human minds, inherited traits from their parents; like a biological child. AI's were so human-like now they had to sleep just like they did. She could even eat and drink; her emitter would process the food and liquids into energy; although unlike humans it didn't leave any waste.

She didn't dare tell her dad that she had inherited his progressive insomnia, because she knew that would only add to his stress. As she gave a sad shake of her head and a quick "goodnight dad," she couldn't help but think at how little she slept as well.

Artemis walked into her room, and set her books on her desk. She snapped her fingers and her knee length _chiton_ changed into pajamas while her bow and quiver vanished. Tomorrow she had decided she would wear a _Himation_ since it was a formal event.

She didn't bother to turn on the lights; the silvery-blue glow that she naturally emanated was light enough for her. As she finished up her homework, Artemis couldn't help but think of how much the Quarians must have hated AIs.

She had watched a lot of those old 20th century movies about AI rebellions, exterminating humans and everything. Now of course the whole concept was ridiculous to humans and AI.

But that whole concept had become a very real reality for the Quarians. Her dad had told her about his plan to introduce AI's to the Quarian delegation; she didn't know if it would work, but she prayed to God that it would.

_It has too…_

**A/N: My new story cover is how I imagine Artemis looking in her teenager/adult Hard Light form. **

**Just saw Avengers: Endgame, it is by far one of the greatest movies of all time. It's even better than Infinity War, which I didn't think was possible. **

**To address one reviewers concern regarding the Codex's; I plan on keeping them in my chapters for the foreseeable future. But to compensate, I plan on either making the codex's shorter, or the actual story bits longer so you get more story in proportion to the codex's in each chapter.**

**As a little side note, if any of you desire to make a TV Tropes page about my story, you have my fullest blessings to do so. In fact I encourage it; I always enjoy reading a tropes page on stories. **

**Also progressive insomnia is a real thing. I know because I have it; it's not something that's diagnosed, but as I've gotten older I sleep less and less. I average about 6 hours of sleep per night now. And it's not like I want to stay up; but my brain is working at a million miles per hour, so that even though I'm so tired that I can't keep my eyes open I can fall asleep. It's good sometimes because it lets me get a lot of work and thinking done. But other times its hell, that's all I can say on it.**

**Hm… Leave reviews and tell me what you think; otherwise I think that's it for today, have a good day y'all.**

**See ya' when I see ya'.**


	7. Meet your friendly local AI

**Quick A/N: Since humans live twice as long, just take the age I give and half it once they pass the age of 40 to get the metric on how old they are. Same with AI's; if a character is 80, picture them as a 40 year old.**

**Chapter 6**

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 001: The United Confederacy._

_-Skipping to section 31…_

_-United Confederacy Human /AI sexual relations producing offspring._

_I'm going to keep this section short and to the point. The whole Idea of humans and AI's… doing it… just makes my skin crawl at how wrong it sounds._

_Recently, about 30-40 years ago, human AI's reached the next stage of their evolution. They gained the ability to become pregnant and have children through sexual relations as opposed to "joining minds" as had been the norm for AI children. _

_Remember how I said that the process of uploading a scanned human brain and combining it with the scan of an AI's mind creates literal "brain children," as people like to call AI's born this way? _

_Well this process is even harder to make sense of. Human AI's have reached the point of being essentially living beings placed into a computer. They eat, sleep, drink, get drunk, and feel pain just like normal biological beings. And just like biological beings, AI's can have sex; the full experience which I don't desire to describe right now. You know what sex is like, (I'm assuming at least.)_

_This new process of AI birth starts with how one would expect. With an AI father and Human mother it's more straightforward. The AI's Hard Light Emitter (HLE) produces sperm that carries the AI's traits into the human. And yes, it is possible; don't ask me how I know just… trust me on this. (ugh.)_

_The AI mother is more interesting, (in a morbid kind of way.)_

_Human father and AI mother have sex, and sperm enters the AI; what's interesting is the AI (unconsciously) scans the sperm and takes the qualities carried within it and combines them with qualities of the AI. Then it disposes of the sperm the same way it disposes of food and water it consumes._

_Once that scan is complete and the two parents' qualities are combined at random, the AI starts creating the new AI's mind and soul. This period can take three to four months. _

_Then the AI goes into labor; now AI children born this way are born the same way the Ancient human wisdom goddess Athena was born. The AI child goes up into its mothers mind, causing it blinding pain and a severe debilitating headache. "Doctors" set a HLE near the mother, who then splits their skull open; allowing the child to rush out and occupy its new home._

_From there its three years of rapid aging from infancy to adolescence. Once an AI reaches the mental age of ten, the rapid aging stops as it learns to slow down the information it takes in._

_Sigh… I really don't get paid enough to document this stuff._

_Logging off…_

**The Volkshalle; Warsaw, Earth**

Artemis tried to keep herself calm, but the anticipation was nearly unbearable. In just a few hours, her father would introduce her to the Quarians; as simply his daughter. He didn't plan on any fanfare, no honorifics, just have her walk in when he called her over. She just hoped to God that they didn't freak out at the sight of her. He had told her not to act all prim and proper, just be herself.

Artemis began to pace the Prime Ministers dressing room, trying to burn off some of her energy. She began to glow brighter, her silver and blue avatar lighting up the room.

She picked at the edge of her _Himation _as she mentally recalled the hand to hand training for AI's her dad and caretaker had given her. AI's were considered a godsend on the battlefield because their hard light emitters allowed them to make essentially any melee weapon they so choose.

A few, like herself, had a special ability passed down to AI's through genetics; Artemis had the ability to produce more hard light than a normal AI, which she could use it to make short ranged projectiles, like arrows.

It was something that very few AI's were able to do, and something even less were able to master. The bow and arrows that Artemis carried around sometimes were not just for show; it was an actual, functional bow with arrows made with hard light. It was something that wasn't thoroughly understood, as Hard Light was only a recent invention even for a race as short lived and as fast developing as humans; only about 90 years old.

"Stop fidgeting, you'll be fine. Neither I nor your father will let anything happen to you." A voice said behind her.

Artemis yelped and spun around, summoning her bow and an arrow. A pair of unamused Bright Orange eyes stared back at her; a middle aged woman who looked to be in her 80's, about the same age as her dad.

Another AI, this one was differing shades of red-orange; her hair and clothing edging more towards dark red, while her skin was more of a flame orange. She wore the long female version of a _chiton,_ one that reached down to her feet. She also wore a _shawl _around her shoulders though she had let her bushy long hair stay loose, which looked like flames.

"Auntie Vesta! I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean too I-I'm just-" Artemis stammered.

"Nervous?" Vesta finished for her.

Artemis looked down in shame and dispelled her weapons, "Yeah…"

Vesta sighed and knelt down and hugged Artemis. Artemis began shaking and Vesta said, "Hush now; everything will be okay my Little Archer." Artemis gulped and nodded at her caretaker. Vesta gave her a very warm smile, and put a hand on Artemis' cheek. Artemis buried herself in her caretaker's _chiton._

Vesta had been Artemis' caretaker on the rare occasion John couldn't be there for her. She was the closest thing to a mother Artemis had; while Vesta treated her with the same love and care as if she were her own daughter.

While Artemis was too young to know better, most in the Executive branch and higher levels in the other branches believed Vesta actually was Artemis' mother.

About a year before Grants presidency, Artemis had been born. When John had started his campaign he had found himself in quite the pickle. Artemis was the equivalent of a toddler by that point and out of the blue came Vesta.

She and John seemed to have had this… tension around them whenever they were alone. They were both too formal and too familiar with each other at the same time. Like two close friends trying and failing to pretend they didn't know each other and had only just met.

Plus, she seemed to share many of Artemis' more "family" related traits, such as her kindness and compassion; along with her more… "Ancient Greek" like personality.

No one was sure, nor were they really willing to pursue it because they had too much respect for Grant; but many government officials suspected that Vesta and John had been in a pretty "active" relationship before his campaign started, and Artemis had been the result.

It didn't help the rumors that Vesta could use hard light projectiles, just like Artemis could.

"You remember the plan?" Vesta asked in a playful tone, smiling at Artemis now.

"Auntieeee…" Artemis groaned. Vesta laughed and covered her mouth with her palm.

Artemis huffed and crossed her arms. "Fine… the phone will ring and you will answer. Dad will ask a certain question and you will answer. If he gives the first one, then the both of us go into the Prime Ministers meeting room. The second one you escort me to the room, but I enter alone. The third one, then the whole thing is off and the two of us wait here for Dad, Uncle Singh and Auntie Ayelet to come in."

"Right! On. The nose." Vesta said, bopping Artemis on the nose. Artemis snickered like she was half her age.

Vesta's smile turned sad as she looked at her charge.

_She's growing up so fast. I wish she knew who I really was._ Vesta thought, remembering that fateful day that seemed like a decade ago.

* * *

**3 Years Ago; Montana, USA**

"Oh shit, John… I think its time!" Vesta yelped.

Grant leaped up from underneath his biplane, his eyes wide. "Holy shit, are you sure?" he asked.

Vesta gave him a nasty glare, her bushy hair now beginning to look more like flames. "Yeah, I'm pretty damn sure. My stomachs started throbbing now, and I-" Vesta's eyes widened, and she bowed her head; putting her fists to her temples while her abdominal area started to glow. "Holy fuck, yeah… its coming alright!" she exclaimed.

John wasted no time, throwing his socket wrench into the tool box while digging his keys out of his pocket. He dashed over to the pickup truck and started it; then he dashed back and scooped Vesta up in a bridal carry and plopped her into the passenger seat.

The AI's dull orange glow now brightened, looking more and more like a roaring fire as John drove. He quickly dialed up his campaign manager, an old friend and college classmate from before his days in the Air Force.

It picked up on the forth ring. "Hello…" a voice said on the other side, rather tiredly; clearly having been just woken up.

"Robby, sorry for getting you outta bed; but cancel my speechs and public appearances for the next two weeks. Family emergency has come up." John ordered, even as Vesta began panting and groaning from the pain.

"Oh shit, yeah got man; is she okay?" Robby asked, sounding very awake now.

"DO I SOUND FUCKING FINE!?" Vesta screamed, and John winced in pain at how screeching her voice was. It was quite the contrast to her normally smooth and melodious voice.

He could practically hear Robby yank the phone away from his ear, "Yeah dumb question I guess. Ok let me know when it's over so I can get more long term marching orders." Robby said, before there was a loud click and the line went dead.

John floored it now, eventually reaching the small town near his little airfield. About 200 people lived there in the downtown area, and there was a small hospital near the church. He slammed on the breaks with a loud screech and threw the seat belt off. He took his keys and threw open the door, vaulted over the hood, and grabbed Vesta out of her seat. A deputy who was always posted at the door jumped up from his chair and hurried out to help John with Vesta, who was now glowing like a campfire.

Vesta was hurried down the hall and given a physical hospital gown. One thing about HLE's was that when the AI using it was either in extreme pain, or at critically low power levels they lost control of their ability to use its functions.

Number one being the clothing they projected and the light they produced; in hindsight Vesta was lucky she had maintained control as much as she had, had she any less control she would have been running around naked.

The receptionist gave John a sheet of paper to fill out as the delivery room was prepared. John filled in the lines as fast as he could write and still be legible. Then practically threw the clipboard onto the desk and dashed down the hall, not even acknowledging the "Congratulations" being sent his way.

He bashed through the door into the delivery room, seeing Vesta clothed in a hospital gown and writhing in pain.

"Well?! Why hasn't the AI come out yet?" John demanded, the doctors gave him a sympathetic look.

"She has to force the child into her mind and out of her skull; it's a short but very painful process. She's prepping herself for the pain that comes with it." The doctor explained.

Accepting the answer, albeit grudgingly, John walked over and knelt next to Vesta and gripped her hand; the table in front of them already had a HLE ready to go, all it needed was the AI it would host.

"Hey Ves, remember what we were gonna name the kid?" he asked to help her take her mind off the pain.

Vesta panted for a few minutes before responding, "Yeah… Apollo if it was a boy…" She scrunched her eyes shut and groaned in pain.

"And Artemis if it was a girl." He finished for her, "Well, let's find out which it is alright? You ready for this?" he asked.

"No," She admitted; "But I can't take this pain anymore. If I burn you I'm sorry."

John smiled, "Just focus of getting this kid out, and I'll worry about potential burns."

Vesta gave a pained smile, then turned and nodded at the doctor. He stepped forward and turned the Hard Light Emitter on; "Okay, Push in 3… 2… 1… NOW!" He ordered.

Vesta screamed an unearthly wail that sent nails down John's spine, her hair turned into fire, and she glowed like the noonday sun. John squinted; he wasn't sure, but he swore he could see the light glowing the brightest in her stomach.

As he watched, Vestas scream became more wavering, and the glow in her stomach brightened while Vesta's own light faded slightly. The source of the glow wormed its way up into Vestas chest, then up through her throat, before finally reaching her temples.

Vestas scream became guttural and increased tenfold, and the glow flared before separating into two lights. One was Vesta's bright fiery orange, and the other shot out of her forehead into the HLE. John wasn't sure, but could swear he saw a flash of blue and silver.

Vesta passed out, her light dimmed to almost translucent; John hugged her and kissed her temple, hoping beyond hope that she was okay.

Then the crying started, and John turned and saw the most beautiful shade of blue he had ever seen in his life.

* * *

**DSS Paris**

Hannah was amused somewhat by the Quarians expressions as they looked out on earth. It was a mixture of awestruck, and admiration; and did she detect a tiny bit of jealousy as well. Over the past few days, she had become familiar with their body language and tics that they communicated nonverbally. "It's so… blue." Rael finally said. Hannah laughed, and patted her breast pocket.

"Get used to seeing blue my friend, because we got blue oceans and blue skies. You're gonna love it here. Oh I can't wait till we get to Warsaw; it has some of the most diverse architecture in the world. It sucks I couldn't get a message off to my husband that I'm planeside. I'm gonna have to make it up to him and the kids later." She said, somewhat breathlessly. Whenever she got excited, she tended to talk faster.

Rael chuckled, as Nato walked up to them; "Get ready, we are descending into the court yard of… what is it called again?" he asked.

"_The Volkshalle, _It's what houses our congress. Don't worry there won't be any press; that won't happen until tomorrow when we bring you in front of a joint session of congress." Hannah replied, hand now resting on her sword. She wasn't sure why, but she had a bad feeling in her gut.

She recalled the Chancellors gag order regarding mentioning no AI's. They had lucked out in that George was the only one on board, and that he had neglected to bring his HLE. From what she understood, the President had a plan to introduce them to two AI's.

His daughter Artemis; and Artemis' caretaker Vesta, and he would do it during an informal dinner between the Triumvirate, their families, and the Quarian envoys.

Since he was their Commander in Chief, it didn't feel right to gossip; but everyone had seen the footage during the campaign trail, along with how attached Vesta seemed to be with Artemis and their President despite being only the girls "caretaker."

"So who will we be meeting when we arrive? And what will we be doing exactly?" She heard Rael ask, in spite of the dirty look his superior was giving him. Hannah could sympathize; Rael was young and far less inclined to care about formalities, much to the irritation of any superiors.

"We land in the courtyard of _The Volkshalle,_ and meet the President and Prime Minister. There's only going to be a single camera and crew recording the event; it won't be live but it will be sent to the news agencies all throughout the Confederacy. If one of us trips or falls that will probably be edited out, so no pressure." Hannah said, then decided to give some more details about the President and Prime Minister; seeing their uneasiness through their body language.

"Okay the President; in public settings he's referred to as 'The Honorable President Johnathon A. Grant;' in private, just call him 'sir,' or 'Mr. President.' He's a Roman Catholic, pretty devout too I may add.

Uh… don't worry about religious faith though. Her Excellency is Jewish like she told you yesterday.

The Prime Minister is Hindu, and before you ask I don't know all that much about it. Only that they worship a pantheon of gods, as opposed to the Abrahamic God that the 'big three' worship.

In public he's referred to as 'The Distinguished Prime Minister Dayananda Singh.' In private he's just 'Mr. Singh,' or 'Prime Minister.'

Hm… what else?

Both are veterans of the Confederacy's military. The Prime Minister was a tanker in the Army, fought in a few campaigns; but he left the service about 40 years ago. The President was an Ace Pilot in the Air Force; and when I say ace, I mean he has over 283 confirmed air victories. He left the service about 10 years ago. A way to get on the Presidents good side is to talk about history or architecture; but if you really want to get him engaged, exchange some war stories with him. He's got hundreds of his own."

Hannah took a breath, and then became aware that most of the people in the hanger were now looking at her. All of the Quarians and about half the humans all held expressions of bafflement; Bishop O'Flaherty looked greatly amused, while Chancellor Isaaman was actually laughing. Hannah bowed her head, very aware of how red her face was becoming.

The Chancellor quickly recovered and walked over, "I see someone actually read the briefing packet." She said still chuckling, "And yes, all that info is very accurate. John is quite the sucker for history and war stories; he can talk your ears off if you're not careful." She joked.

A timer began beeping on the Chancellors iWatch, and she looked down at it. "Alright! Places everyone, we are landing in 10 minutes and are entering the atmosphere. Let's make some history."

* * *

**The Volkshalle; Warsaw, Earth**

John and Singh wore their triumvirate "uniforms," and stood waiting for Ayelet to finally bring down the Quarian delegation. John felt a little bad for Singh, it was early February and Singh was from India and was used to warm humid climates; John himself was far more used to colder climates, having grown up in Montana. Johns black Calvary hat did keep the snow off his face at least.

It was snowing all across Poland at the moment, and while he would have preferred clear weather; John couldn't see this meeting happening anywhere else. Poland had suffered much in Earth's history, now it had a chance to be known to finally capitalize on its recent string of success after it helped found the Confederacy.

The distinctive buzzing of a shuttle drove any discomfort from his body, and John instantly stiffened to a sort of "parade rest." He noticed Singh do something similar, although he appeared to be in more of a position of "attention."

John silently chuckled at how they had both fallen back on military instinct for the situation.

_Old habits die hard I guess._ He thought to himself.

He watched as the gunmetal grey shuttle landed in the middle of the massive courtyard, the bone rattling humming of the engines filled the air. Then the shuttle extended its landing gear, and touched down. The bay door opened, and a platoon of Marines and a squad of Army Rangers filed out into the area and formed two formations on either side of Singh and John.

Her Excellency Chancellor Ayelet Isaaman walked out onto the ramp that had extended onto the ground; she walked in perfect step with the official Quarian ambassadors, Admiral Han'Gerrel and Admiral Beto'Raan. They walked the hundred feet between the ramp and where Grant and Singh stood, the lone camera allowed at the event recording and taking pictures simultaneously. When they stopped about three feet in front of them, Ayelet walked up and stood to grants right; turning and facing the Quarians.

Grant stepped one step forward, forming a triangle between him, Singh and Ayelet.

He took a breath and said, "On behalf of the Confederacy those that inhabit it, I welcome you to Earth Admirals. You already know Her Excellency the Chancellor of Nations Ayelet Isaaman. I am The Honorable President of the People Johnathon Grant; and to my left is the Distinguished Prime Minister of Congress Dayananda Singh. We are the Triumvirate, and we represent mankind."

* * *

**The Volkshalle; the Prime Ministers Dressing Room**

Artemis and Vesta had dimmed their glows to as low as they could make them; watching Grant and the Aliens greet each other for a window in the room.

"They seem… nice I guess. Why do they have to wear those suits though? I guess it's not exactly nice out, but Dad and Uncle Singh were handling it just fine." Artemis commented.

Vesta sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you not read the briefing packet the Chancellor and George sent us?" already knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Artemis stiffened and brightened slightly, then turned slowly to look at Vesta with the most innocent expression she could manage. "Uh… maybe?"

Vesta sighed and shook her head, _of all the times; my laziness she inherited rears its head. _She thought in exasperation.

"Of course you didn't, they wear those suits because Quarians have such weak immune systems that they will die from allergic reactions if they even have a part of their body exposed." Vesta explained.

"Oh…" was all Artemis could manage, and she began picking at her _Himation _again.

Vesta made sure she had dimmed her light as low as she could before checking the window.

"Okay, their inside the building; it'll only be a few minutes now Artemis." Vesta said, she turned and saw that Artemis was shaking again.

Vesta knelt and hugged her fiercely, "You'll be fine… it's gonna be okay."

Artemis' shaking ceased and she seemed to melt somewhat. "Thanks mom- I-I m-mean!" She stammered and she started glowing brighter from embarrassment, unaware that Vesta had frozen and was holding back tears at what Artemis had just said.

She hugged Artemis even tighter while brightening back to normal levels and said, "For all intents and purposes my little archer, I am your mom."

Artemis nodded, her glow fading again; unaware of the shadowed confession Vesta had given her.

_RING!_

They both jumped and looked at the phone on the desk. Vesta took a breath and walked over and answered. "Yes?"

…

"Yes John, we're both ready."

…

"Okay, we'll be there in a minute." Vesta hung up and looked at Artemis with a slight measure of relief. "The both of us are needed Artemis, are you ready?" she asked.

Artemis gulped, and her glow brightened back to normal levels; but she nodded and a determined look came over her features, "As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

**The Prime Ministers Cabinet Room**  
John replaced the phone on the receiver and looked back at the Quarian envoys. No one had any weapons; it was just the Triumvirate and the 4 Quarians. The Secret Service wasn't happy about it, but John made them go away with the measure that all three of their charges were veterans and combat trained.

The Quarians for their part were looking and touching everything in the room, having been unused to creature comforts during their days in the Migrant Fleet.

The captain, Nato he thought, asked; "Who was that you were talking too Mr. President?"

"Some very important people I would like you to meet, now please sit. We… need to tell you something very important." He replied.

The large oval shaped table had 10 chairs surrounding it. Each was plush and very comfortable, and the Quarians expressed amazement at how soft they were before taking their seats.

John, Ayelet, and Singh sat on one side; the Quarians sat on the other. John shifted uncomfortably; "Look, we know how you feel about AI's. And we'll… we haven't been entirely honest with you regarding our attitudes on AI's." he said.

The Quarians all shifted, he could feel suspicion radiating off of them. "What do you mean, 'not entirely honest regarding AI's?'" Han'Gerrel asked.

Lieutenant Zorah gasped, "You don't have AI's do you?" he asked, although he sounded more fascinated than horrified.

Grant, Singh and Ayelet looked at each other; confirming the Quarians worst fears. "You do! You must kill them, they will turn on you! Just like they did with us!" Beto'Raan exclaimed.

Nato'Meemor narrowed his eyes, then said; "Unless… they haven't been recently developed have they? You've had them for a few years at least." That stilled the Quarians and they leaned back, looking horrified by the concept.

John winced, "Not… Exactly."

"10 years?" Rael asked, sounding more enthused than his colleagues.

Ayelet shook her head, and Singh winced.

"Try 150 of our earth years, give or take ten years or so." John said.

That shut them up for a moment, and John decided to continue; "See AI's are so advanced and integral to our society that most just see them as human. It's reached the point that AI's-"

_KnockKnockKnock!_

John stopped and everyone turned as Vesta and Artemis entered the room, Vesta somewhat shielding Artemis' Silver and Blue body with her own Orange and Red body.

"Hello John, Singh. Ayelet, I'm happy to see you've made it back in one piece." She said, trying to break the ice somewhat.

No one responded, so John stood and walked over to them. He gave Vesta a quick hug, then put his hands on Artemis' shoulders and faced the Quarians. "Admirals Han'Gerrel and Beto'Raan, Captain Nato'Meemor, and Lieutenant Rael'Zorah; I would like you to meet Artemis Grant, my daughter, and Vesta, her… caretaker." He said, hesitating on caretaker because he had almost said "mother."

There was a beat, then Artemis said, "Um… hi everyone, nice to meet you."

**A/N: OH MY GOD! Sorry this took so long, but I had trouble finding a way to put this together that felt right. Man I have to admit I don't like the Quarian centric parts of the story so far. Mainly because I'm constrained in that I can't explain in terms humans would use. I might just make it AI-Human only from now one, with slight deviations to get different perspectives.**

**If Vesta felt a little shoehorned in, rest assured that was intentional. If you want to know why she and Grant aren't married, or at the very least acknowledge that Artemis is their daughter as opposed to being the result of a "Sperm Brain;" rest assured that will be explained in time.**

**To address one reviewers desire to have other religions represented, such as the pagan faiths, I'm sorry to say I won't do that. I already have Singh being a Hinduist, and that's about it. The reason for this is because I'd rather have someone make an offhand remark about their religion and not explain further, than have my dumb Roman Catholic ass try to make sense of other faiths that I probably have never even encountered. **

**I don't want to disrespect other people's religions by getting the facts wrong.**

**What else… Next chapter will probably be the last chapter regarding first contact between the Humans/AI's and Quarians. I can't say anything more because it's too spoilery. **

**Also, keep in mind that this story is mostly inspired by Spielberg's **_**Lincoln**_** and Clancy's **_**Hunt for Red October. **_**So if you want action in this, well don't expect much. I admit, even really good action scenes in books and fics tend to make my brain shut off because I can't really make myself picture what's happening. Unless it's Air Combat/Dogfights, then you got my attention.**

**Also from this point forward the Codex's are going to start being different. I will start alternating between the Citadel Codex's, like what you've seen so far; and documentary style "footage" from the Confederacy's point of view. Best comparison for that I can think of is **_**Ken Burns Civil War **_**style intros and talking points. Watch **_**The Civil War**_** by the way, some of y'all out there don't know your history; and if you're not American, watch it anyway because even if you're not interested in history, Ken Burns will make it interesting for you.**

**Leave Reviews, tell me what y'all think. Have a good week.**

**See ya' when I see ya'**


	8. Down Time

**Quick A/N: if you watched **_**Ken Burns the Civil War,**_** this story is going to start following that style of storytelling when not focusing on main characters.**

**Chapter 7**

_By the summer of 2232 AD, Robert Lincoln had had enough. _

_Two huge armies were converging on his farm in what would be the first major battle of the AI-Turian War known as The Battle of New Sharpsburg, or Spirits Farm as the Turians called it, would soon rage across the aging humans farm; A Turian artillery shell going so far as to explode in the summer kitchen._

_Now Robert moved his family off of _Shanxi_ and away from _New Sharpsburg_, out of harm's way he prayed; to a dusty little riverside town on the planet _Reach_ called _La Plata_._

_And it was there in his living room four years later that Turian General Augustius Sparatus, under the watchful eye of Asari Matriarch Benezia T'Soni and Spectre Orstin Solus, would surrender to Confederacy General Octavia Elizabeth Lee and Admiral Steven Hackett._

_And Robert Lincoln, descendent of American President Abraham Lincoln, could rightfully claim; "The war began in my front yard, and ended in my front parlor."_

* * *

_**X(Ashokan Farwell)X**_

_The Turian-AI war was fought in 10,000 places; from _New Sharpsburg _to _Berlin, _to _New Kabul, _to _Palaven, _and _Taetrus _and beyond._

_Homes became headquarters; Churches and Schools became hospitals sheltering the dying; and huge foraging armies swept across innocent farms, and burned innocent towns._

_More than 30 million Turians, Humans, Quarians and AI's fought in it._

_And more than 2.1 million people died in it._

_Young men and women who had never strayed more than 20 miles from their own front doors now found themselves soldiers in great armies; fighting epic battles millions of miles from home._

_They knew they were making history, and it was the greatest adventure of their lives._

_The war made some rich, ruined others, and changed the lives of all that lived through it._

_-A lackluster veteran tanker from India, who as the experienced Prime Minister would lead congress into passing some of the greatest humanitarian laws and amendments in history._

_-A former Israeli spy, who as a freshman Chancellor would go on to unite all the nations under one banner._

_-An eccentric deacon and military historian who would become a terror to the Turian military and a legend across the galaxy._

_-The courtly, unknowable, young, and beautiful Aristocrat, who disapproved of centralized government, and detested war; yet would go on at the behest of both at the head of one of the greatest armies of all time._

_-A young Admiral who would revolutionize space warfare, yet in the orbit of a little planet would order an unlikely textbook maneuver that saved the Confederacy Navy and possibly the Confederacy itself._

_-Two ordinary people; one a human sergeant that was at first contact, the other a Quarian lieutenant also at first contact; who together seemed to be everywhere during the war, and somehow lived to tell the tale._

_-The mysterious yet powerful AI, who would do anything to protect her daughter; Who would go on to recruit over a million AI's and turned the war into a fight for the freedom of ALL AI's._

_-And finally the war hero, the Ace Pilot, the farmer from Montana who would rise to become one of the greatest Presidents the Confederacy has ever seen._

_From 2232 to 2236 the Confederacy and Turians made war on each other and killed each other in great numbers. All for the sake of protecting a people that one side considered their own, and the other considered to be nothing more than machines._

* * *

_**The White House; Washington D.C, Earth.**_

Vesta stormed down the hallway of the white house heading towards the Lincoln room where john was. She had already put Artemis to bed, now she was just angry and full of despair at the same time.

At Least the Quarians hadn't freaked out too much.

But now they had to postpone _the Volkeshalle _address until the Quarians and their security team had gone through the packet given to them about AI's. All things considered it hadn't gone too badly. No another matter had put a twist in Vestas _Subligar_.

Her _Chiton _swished as she stormed up to the door where the two Secret Service guards stood. "Good evening gentleman." She said coolly.

The two guards backed up slightly and looked at each other. "Er… Good evening Lady Vesta. What do we owe the pleasure?"

"I need to talk to John about Artemis." She said point blank.

The looked at each other again, and then shrugged in a _what the hell_ kind of expression. They knocked on the door and pressed an intercom button, "Mr. President? Lady Vesta wants to talk to you, uh… she looks angry." He said unabashedly.

"_Send her in."_ he replied.

The door swung open and Vesta stormed in, closing the door behind her.

The two agents looked at each other, "How much you want to bet they get into a huge fight and then end up sleeping together?" one asked.

"Eh. 20 bucks; I get an extra 10 if she ends up pregnant and they get married. C'mon man they're made for each other." The other replied.

"Deal. Just glad these walls are soundproof, she looks like a screamer."

"Screamer for when she's arguing or when she's having sex?"

"Yes."

* * *

While the two agents made small talk, Vesta stormed into the room where John was just stepping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He gulped when he saw her expression and gulped, "Uh… now look Ves, I-"

_SMACK!_

He stumbled and fell backwards with wide eyes, as Vesta started glowing. "Shut up!"

He nodded immediately.

Vesta took a breath and began pacing the room; "Do you know what Artemis said to me before we went to meet with the Quarians?" she asked.

John blinked and said, "If this is about what the Quarians did, they said they're sorry. Artemis wasn't that bothered by their screaming, just a little worried that they hurt themselves." Completely missing Vesta's point.

She took a deep breath, then faded her glow a little bit. "She was very afraid John, so afraid that she drew her bow on me just because I startled her. She was shaking from anxiety for God's sake. I hugged her just before we left the room to go to your little diplomatic stunt. You know what she said to me?" She growled, her voice slowly rising with every word, her glow brightening as her anger grew.

John shook his head, staying in his chair; silently glad he had the foresight to dry himself off before exiting the bathroom.

"She accidently called me Mom…" Vesta said; her voice breaking with despair, and tears started to fall down her face. "I don't think I've ever regretted my decision more than I do now." She said, her voice cracking slightly.

John said nothing, but stood up and hugged her tightly as she began to sob.

"I regret letting you make that choice; my faith be damned I don't care, we should have gotten married the day that Artemis was born and baptized. If it had cost me the presidency I could have cared less." John finally said, tears in his own eyes but his voice remained steady.

When Artemis had been born, Vesta and John had not been married. John had wanted to marry her then and there but Vesta had shut it down, on the basis that it would hurt his campaign. She had planned on just disappearing and having John say that Artemis was a "Sperm Brain."

John had shot that down immediately, wanting Vesta to still be a part of Artemis' life in some capacity. They had considered telling Artemis when she was old enough to understand that Vesta was Artemis' mother but she had to keep it a secret. That had also been shot down on the well-known fact that children couldn't keep a secret if their lives depended on it.

Eventually they compromised, Artemis was a "Sperm Brain" but Vesta was her "Caretaker."

Up until this point, John had hated the setup but accepted that so long as Vesta and Artemis were happy he could live with it. Apparently he wasn't the only one unhappy.

They both collapsed to their knees, John still holding Vesta tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder. Neither noticed that she had lost control of her light and her clothing had dissipated. After a few minutes, her sobbing faded away and John asked, "So what did you tell her?"

"Hm?"

"When she accidently called you mom, what did you say to her?" He reiterated.

She gave a small smile that brought John back to New Athens the first day they met. "I told her that for all intents and purposes I am her mom." She said.

John grinned and said, "Lets tell her sometime this week once everything calms down, I think she's old enough to know the truth now don't you think?"

She grinned back and said, "Yeah…" then she looked down and blushed, "Uh John… your only wearing a towel."

John's grin grew wider, "I think I'm still a little bit more decent than you are." He replied.

Vesta's face turned to confusion, then she looked down and her light grew all over; "Well… let's even the odds a bit eh?" she yanked his towel off and threw it away.

He stood and they both began kissing passionately, letting instinct and experience take over as they worked their way back to the bed. John lay down and Vesta straddled him, leaning down and kissing him again. "Oh John how I love you so much; I want another."

John kissed her back saying, "I love you too. Let's have another…"

* * *

**30 years ago; New Athens.**

"Fuck!" John snapped his plane over into a tight bank.

His wingman followed, their F-39 Thunderchief II's responded smartly. John looked over his shoulder and saw that the rebel fighters were already inside his turn. John hadn't expected the rebels to be fielding new aircraft, much less ones that had better agility.

No matter, his "Thuds" were still way faster, capable of Mach 3.5.

"Swett, you ever heard of the 'Thach Weave'?" he asked his wingman, a kid who had very little flight experience.

"Y-yeah, we practiced it in training once or twice." The kid replied

"We'll looks like you're gonna get some practical experience kid. Let's do it." He ordered.

The two "thuds" began weaving back and forth, keeping a close eye on their speedometers and the 6 or so hostiles behind them. It worked, the rebel pilots had clearly seen this maneuver employed before and knew what would happen if they tried to go after them.

Then to Johns horror, Swett swung his "thud" too wide on one turn, and a Rebel fighter pounced, rapid firing two missiles and then blasting him with the duel mounted 20mm cannons. One Missile went up the tailpipe, while the 20mm rounds chewed through Swetts shields and cockpit.

John knew he was dead, and booted hard right rudder and yanked back on the stick while violently retiring the throttle. He blasted his three 30mm cannons right through the rebel that had killed Swett. The whole thing was ripped to pieces.

Kill number 173.

_BANG!_

Johns head smashed into the instrument panel as a missile went up his own tail pipe.

He cursed and ejected from his already doomed airplane. His ejection seat roared out of the cockpit, then detached after a few seconds. John could feel the weight of his survival pack, which was attached to his parachute bag. He could feel the MP32SD against his back, a painful reminder he was now in enemy territory.

He just hoped not all the locals wanted to kill him like in those films about Vietnam and "Thud Ridge."

* * *

Vesta swam through the river, basking in the night sky. She was still glowing, albeit lightly, and it tended to stand out; but she didn't care. She was far away from the village; so there was no one around to see her skinny dipping. At only 53, she was still single; something that a lot of the guys in the village wanted to take advantage of.

She gave an involuntary shudder as she remembered that back in Ancient Greek and Roman times, the era her appearance was based on, she would already have been married off at age 13 or 14 to someone the age of 14 to16. By the time she would have been 16 she likely would have already had one or two children. She would probably be the equivalent to the age of 26 in that time period, give or take a year.

Good thing her nanna had taught her everything about her abilities before she died.

Her fire orange skin dulled somewhat; it wasn't something many thought about, but many AI's died of old age, just like humans. Mostly because they didn't want to live after their partners died. Vesta hoped that didn't happen to her, unlike humans once AI's reached sexual maturity, they could keep their appearance the same forever.

_THUD!_

Vesta shot out of the water, her _chiton_ automatically covering her again. That _thud _was something she never hoped to hear. That was the sound of a Confederacy Thunderchief hitting the ground.

Vesta saw the flames off in the distance and took off towards it.

She hoped that the pilot had gotten out and was smart enough to make his way back to it. She just hoped that she could get there first before the villagers did. Anti-Confederacy hate was at an all-time high, and Vesta would not have been surprised if the villagers beat the pilot to death while castrating them if they were a guy.

Or gang raping them if they happened to be a woman, then killing them.

It was a tragic thing really; the Confederacy never attacked first, but if a village killed downed pilots or lost soldiers then the Confederacy would retaliate violently.

Not that that probably helped matters but it probably felt good to them.

Vesta came up to the clearing where the Thunderchief had crashed, the tail section completely ruined; it had clearly taken a missile up the tailpipe. Vesta stared at the wreckage, unsure of what to do when she heard a loud _CLICK!_

Vesta spun around so fast her flaming hair looked like a vortex. She summoned a bow and arrows and took aim at where she heard the sound.

It was the pilot, and he was aiming a MP32SD right at her chest where her HLE was. He still wore his green jumpsuit and grey helmet. She couldn't see his face behind the polarized visor.

Both aimed their respective weapons at each other, neither wavering for a moment.

"You with the rebels?" The pilot finally asked, his voice was tight with discipline and another emotion Vesta couldn't identify.

"No… I'm assuming you're the Thunderchief pilot then." She replied, lowering her bow cautiously.

"You'd be right to assume that." He replied lowering his weapon.

Angry voices started drifting up from the nearby woods, and both whipped their weapons to the source of the sound, Vesta dimming her light as low as she could.

"Quickly we must move, the villagers will be here soon." She ordered.

The Pilot followed her, but he quipped; "how do I know you ain't taking me away to have some 'good times' befor ya kill me?"

Vesta gave him a sly smile, "You don't, you're just gonna have to trust me. If you don't, well the villagers aren't that far behind; I'm pretty sure they would have some 'good times' with you." She replied.

The Pilot grunted and asked, "Never caught your name. I'm John, John Grant."

She paused and turned, looking him right in the eye. She reached out her hand, and after a moment he took it. "Vesta, my names Vesta."

* * *

**PT 73; Warsaw, Earth**

McHale and his crew stumbled out of his boat and slumped onto various crates and railings; gasping for fresh air and enjoying the frigid Polish winter weather.

His and Krystina's tan officers' duty uniforms were soaked with sweat. They looked like they had stepped out of a rainstorm. The crew's uniforms were less obvious, but that was because they were wearing blue and grey digital camouflage, so the sweat looked like it belonged.

McHale was not a happy camper; along with being stuck in that death trap for the past 3 days, now he had to listen to all the engineers doing repairs and maintenance on the 73 bitch and moan about how hot it was.

And the smell wasn't exactly pleasant either, McHale had ordered the crew to stop taking showers to preserve the fresh water supply on the very real possibility the heat and humidity shorted out the water recyclers.

Now it smelled like sweat and it felt… dirty. Maybe a little bit of spite was also why he had them stop taking showers too, he wasn't sure.

"ATTENTION ON DECK!" a voice bellowed, and McHale and his crew reluctantly snapped to attention.

A few officers stepped onto the repair deck, scanning the area. There were a few other PT boats and some cargo freighters on the dock as well, so McHale wasn't sure why they were there. Then the lead officer spotted the 73 Boat, and nodded to his compatriots.

"As you were." The leader ordered. McHale stiffened as he saw the two stars on his lapel.

He walked right up to McHale and asked, "Lieutenant Commander Benjamin McHale?"

McHale felt confusion dot his and the rest of his crews faces; not wanting to contradict him, but still feeling the need to clarify he snapped to attention and saluted, "Lieutenant Junior Grade Benjamin McHale Commanding Officer of PT 73 reporting Admiral!"

The Admirals expression turned from serious to amused, "Its Lieutenant Commander now son, and you and your crew don't have to suffer in that sauna anymore LC." He said calmly.

McHale stiffened even straighter, "Yes Sir!" he said.

"Lieutenant Krystina Brozek?" He called.

Krystina practically sprinted up next to McHale and saluted, "Sir?" she asked, seeing that she too had gotten a two-step promotion.

The Admiral turned to the rest of the crew, and once he was certain he had everyone's attention, started explaining everything to them. "You all have been promoted for the outstanding work you all did during First Contact, and for bravely staying behind with a potentially hostile force on a malfunctioning PT boat. To top it off, you are now being assigned a new boat boys and girls; with a brand new crew to go along with it; the newest prowler straight off the dockyards on Reach, the _UCNS Nyx's Chariot_. You report to her in two weeks; in the meantime, get some well-deserved R&R. God knows you all need it. Oh and a shower too, smells like a pigsty." He explained.

There was a beat; and then all of them cheered, whooped and hollered that their luck had finally seemed to turn.

* * *

**DSS Paris; Warsaw, Earth**

Rael stared out the window into the beautiful snow covered courtyard of _the Volkeshalle._ It truly was amazing how pretty the planet was. And the people were nothing if not kind and polite, a complete 180 to how he was treated on his pilgrimage.

"We cannot trust these AI's! They have their own physical bodies for Ancestors sake, how do we know they won't slit our throats in our sleep?" Han'Gerrel snapped in anger, showing his clear anti-AI stance.

"These humans have lived with them for almost two centuries, what else is there to say? These AI look, talk, and act like humans. When the President's wife and daughter entered I thought they were merely holograms being projected in from a different location, that's how real and emotional they acted." Beto'Raan retorted, casting his support with the AI's.

"… I suppose this explains why they were able to decrypt and translate our languages so easily. Hmph, 'good with languages my ass.'" Nato'Meemor grumped, not really taking a side in the matter though clearly unhappy with the human's deception.

All eyes turned to Rael.

It was funny how, despite being a lowly lieutenant, he was now in one of the most powerful positions of the entire Migrant Fleet.

"While I don't like the fact that they had to lie to us on the matter of AI's…" Rael began, slowly annunciating his thoughts on the matter; "Can you honestly blame them for taking the measures they did?

How do you think we would have reacted seeing Lady Vesta as part of the Chancellors first contact packet? We would have tried to blow the fleet out of the galaxy. I personally think they can be trusted, despite their deception.

Look at young Lady Artemis, she was clearly afraid of us yet swallowed that fear just to try and get to know us; despite most likely knowing how we would react to an AI. In fact the poor child looked like she was afraid we would kill her on the spot."

Rael paused for breath, unaware that Captain Meemor had been recording him.

"Can you honestly tell me that child was a threat to us? No I don't think so. We have suffered much at the hands of the Geth, and the hands of the hands of the Council by extension. But these AI and humans aren't the Geth or Council. They clearly want to help us, either by some strongly ingrained morals and idealism or by some vein of pity I don't know.

I think this is the best chance that our people have to continue with their lives; to do more than just survive, to live.

I for one think that it's time for us to have a little faith for once. Let's take a leap of faith and trust these people. What is the worst that can happen?" Rael said, finishing his little impromptu speech.

Nato closed his omnitool and sent the video back to the rest of the Admirals and the conclave, while Beto was clearly smiling behind his mask. "I don't think I could have said it better myself young Rael. Very well, contact the triumvirate and tell them we are ready to speak before their government. And you are right Rael, what is the worst that can happen?"

* * *

**TSF Righteous Fury**

Admiral Pompepilia Isarius stood on the bridge of the Righteous Fury, General Desolas Arterius and his brother Spectre Saren Arterius stood to either side of her. She had recently been dispatched by the council to find out where the Quarian migrant fleet had gone; and to punish them if they had broken any laws.

Privately, she almost hoped that the Quarians had activated a relay and left council space for good. She wouldn't blame them if they had, it's not like they had anything left for them in Citadel space.

Arterius, both of them, had proclaimed that if the Quarians had opened a relay, then they would personally kill every single one of the ones that did it. And if they had established themselves on a new world then they would glass them out of existence.

Isarius was pretty sure most of the fleet and crews sided with Arterius on the matter so she did not contest it. Though she resolved herself to make a stand to not bombard any colony's they found; simply on the principle that causing a race to go extinct didn't sit well with her.

She was also sure it didn't sit well with councilor Tevos either, which was why Tevos had been insistent that Pompepilia had been put in charge.

"Admiral, General! Scans confirmed, the Quraians have activated a dormant relay. Scanners show a massive amount of eezo signatures have gone through here. I think the whole Migrant Fleet might have come through here." The ship's captain Castis Vakarian reported with an uneasy expression on his face.

_Good to see I'm not the only one not on board with Desolas' whole glassing rhetoric._ She thought.

Saren growled, "Those spirits damned suit rats! Breaking even more council laws, we should just blast the bunch of them and be done with it."

"We're going to need a bigger fleet if we wish to accomplish that." Desolas mused.

"How long will the jump be?" Pompepilia asked, steering the conversation away from committing genocide for the time being.

"About 4 days, this is a really long relay jump to say the least. Quarians must be either confident or desperate to go so far." Castis said.

Isarius nodded, mulling things over for a moment. Her dreadnaught was among the newest in the fleet, and she was backed up by 3 heavy cruisers, 6 light cruisers, 4 destroyers, and 7 frigates. Whatever reserve force or blockade the Quarians put up she could probably deal with.

"Send a message to the council informing them we found where the Migrant Fleet has gone. Inform them they have activated a dormant relay and that it's a long jump to the Quarians destination. We are pursuing them into the unknown territory; will update once we exit transit." She ordered.

Vakarian nodded and went to send her message.

Saren rubbed his eyes, "Honestly why would those suit rats even tempt fate like that. It's like they are asking for punishment at this point."

Pompepilia said nothing, but silently desired to punt the insolent little whelp of a Spectre out the airlock. But that wouldn't have been proper; _but a woman can dream cant she, _she thought.

Isarius felt a chill go down her spine; suddenly she had this very distinct feeling that she was about to kick a Varrens nest. She wasn't sure what was telling her that, but she could have sworn she felt a breeze on her face when the feeling came over her. But she was on a ship; _it must have been my imagination, _she thought, _no spirits would talk to someone like me; or any other deity for that matter, if they actually exist._

Oh how wrong she was.

* * *

**A/N: sigh… oh the nostalgia. I actually re-watched _Ken Burns the Civil War_ before writing this chapter just so I could get a feel for the writing and storytelling style. I'm not going to apply it for this chapter beyond the intro as you saw, but in the next one when the inevitable naval battle occurs you can bet your sweet ass' I'm going to do it. (Go watch it, just type into YouTube _Ken Burns the Civil War._**** it will pop up with a Spanish title, but they are in English, they just have Spanish subtitles. first episode should have the title, **A Guerra Civil Americana - A Causa (Ep. 1 de 9 - Legendado PT-BR),** again like to emphasis its in English, just with Spanish subtitles.)**

**For any improbable female reader out there reading my garbage story, that comment has no bearing on your actual appearance by the way; (Please don't accuse me of sexual harassment, I'm poor.) Man it's hard to convey jokes through text only, I'm just now realizing. (The 4 lines before this was meant to be a joke, if you already couldn't tell; but I don't want to take any chances.)**

**You might notice that there is a definite Ancient Greek and Judeo-Christian themed naming for members of the Confederacy. That's because Ancient Greek Logic, and Judeo-Christian Faith and values are the foundation of our society, even today; not that we're really appreciative of it that much. **

**Also it's to provide a direct contrast to the very Roman themed naming with Turians both in this AU and in canon.**

**I can't really think of another time I would rather live in than right now.**

**People don't realize how lucky they are to have been born in this time period; 30-40 years ago half of the world was under the iron grip of socialism and communism. 50-60 years ago there was still segregation; we were propping up dictatorships, and America was on the brink of another civil war. 80 years ago (holy shit I didn't even realize this years the 80 year anniversary of the start of ww2) most of Europe, Asia and Africa were being purged by fascism. 100-150 years ago, woman still worked at home if at all, you probably wouldn't have lived past 60 if you were lucky, families would have 5-10 children and have half of them probably die before they turned 5.**

**Now the average life expectancy just keeps growing, we are more educated than ever; and most importantly we are freer than ever. Only one thing is guaranteed here in America, and that you are free to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.**

**Oh and before I get comments saying that "Robet Lincoln having the war start and end where he lived is unrealistic." Keep in mind that actually happened. Look up Wilmer McLean; the first major battle of the American Civil War happened on his farm. He moved away and down into southern Virginia; and the Confederacy's Overall commander Robert E. Lee surrendered in his living room 3 ½ years later to the Unions General in Chief Ulysses S. Grant, effectively ending the war. (Although Grant was a 3 Star at the time, he was made a 4 Star very shortly afterward. And he was still commander of all Union Armies; both the Eastern and the Western fronts.)**

**Ok enough of the history lessons me, most people probably don't care. **

**Please leave reviews guys; it gives me feedback and provides no end of encouragement.**

**See ya when I see ya.**


	9. First Battle of Yankee Station

**A/N: reuploaded to fix two issues, one being speed; the other being distance. Since I want to be vague at how fast a ship moves when sub light, I made a new speed called "light-knots." not very original but fanfics aren't exactly known for originality. I also changed the distance to light-hours, because that's the one that registers in my brain the best, I admit I'm not good at math. (which begs the question why I'm pursuing a mechanical engineering degree.)**

"_In this army, one bullet hole in a person's uniform indicates a captain, two holes a lieutenant; and if the uniform has too many holes to count, it indicates that the individual is most likely a private." –Unknown Confederacy Soldier._

* * *

"_All navies that have seen actual combat have a particular way of fighting; the Turians will be more likely to bring overwhelming force to bear on a smaller force because they have had the largest navy for a very long time. _

_The Asari are more likely to use hit and run tactics to mess with an opponent, provided that they haven't found some way to talk themselves out of it. _

_Salarians are most likely to use surgical strikes, take out the heart and mind so to speak._

_Humans in contrast never use any one strategy or tactic more than once. And it works; it's how despite being outnumbered 3 to one, the Confederacy was able to hold the Turians off for long enough to force them to sue for peace. The Quarians couldn't help much, since their population was so low, the humans refused to let them fight unless absolutely necessary. Which I also think speaks well to humanities other key quality, that being infinite compassion; don't you think?" _

_-Councilor Sparatus_

* * *

_**(XAshokan FarwellX)**_

_In 2232 most of the confederacy's 35 billion people lived peaceably on small colonies and small towns. In New Baltimore, a 7__th__-day-adventist Pacifist sect, the Seeds, made their home in a sea of wheat and corn._

_In New Sharpsburg population 6,000, young men and women studied history and mathematics at the small college there._

_Freighters filled with Titanium came and went at Reach's orbital shipyards._

_In Warsaw, Senator Donnel Udina reviewed plans for remodeling _the Volkeshalle.

_On Mars, the 10,000 employers of the Fujikawa steel works turned out battle armor and cannons for the United Confederate government._

_At West Point in New York, officers trained; and friendships were formed that would last a lifetime._

_Meanwhile, the New Athens rebellion which had cost over 600,000 lives had entered its 49__th__ year. _

_And aboard the DSS Paris, the Quarian representatives finally decided to appear in congress to negotiate a non-aggression pact and a possible alliance with the Confederacy._

* * *

Rael shifted from one foot to another; anxious at just how many people he was slated to appear in front of. There were close to 3000 Delegates and Senators, and about 15,000 spectators in the viewing gallery. A healthy portion were dignitaries, people in important positions, businessmen and tech moguls, and a lot of journalists and members of the media. But most were ordinary people, citizens of Warsaw that had the good fortune of being able to get a seat in the chamber.

So many people… Rael had to count his blessings, the Migrant Fleet had been told everything; his own little speech that Captain Nato had recorded had been sent all over the fleet. Next thing he knew his omnitool was blowing up with messages from the rest of his family and his wife about how brave and stupid he was.

Now the main chamber of _The Volkeshalle_ was being streamed all across the Migrant Fleet and all through Confederacy space.

"Nervous?" a voice asked him. Rael jumped slightly and turned to see the bemused President Grant watching him.

"Yes." Rael said point blank, deciding not to beat around the bush.

Grant chuckled, "Don't worry I am too. State of the union was only a month or two ago and I was nervous then. But once you hear that applause and everyone whooping and cheering and clapping for you, you feel that nervousness go away. Just remember the order you're called, and try to make sure you don't trip. That makes everyone both scared and chagrined at the same time." He advised.

Rael nodded, as the Clerk of the Assembly opened the doors to the Chamber. Everyone took their places, Rael beside Captain Nato and behind the Admirals. They were at the very back of the line; the Triumvirate was at the very front, followed by their cabinet, then the Joint Chiefs of Staff, then the nine Justices of the Supreme Court.

The Clerk went in and called the chamber to order, "Delegates, Senators, and Guests; it is my honor to welcome The Distinguished Prime Minister of Congress Dayananda Singh.

The Honorable President of the People Johnathon Adrian Grant.

Her Excellency the Chancellor of Nations Ayelet Isaaman.

The Cabinet Secretaries of the Executive Branch.

The Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United Confederacy Military.

The Highest Judges of the Supreme Court of the United Confederacy.

And last but certainly not least, Admiral Beto'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Captain Nato'Meemor vas Raaleya, and Lieutenant Rael'Zorah vas Raaleya."

The thunderous applause nearly deafened him, but Rael managed to keep himself upright and straight as he walked into the chamber. It was… amazing, Rael had been to the Asari capitol during his pilgrimage and the buildings didn't even compare. The Architectural engineering that had gone into the building was stunning.

The amount of people inside was staggering, but Rael managed to ignore it; he focused on staying in step with Captain Nato as they reached their seats. The Triumverate had climbed up a set of stairs and sat down behind three podiums. They were raised up behind a fourth and fifth podium on a lower level where the clerk stood behind one. The other was where a guest speaker or someone who had the floor would stand and speak.

After a few minutes of clapping and cheering, Singh stood and walked up to his podium which was the center one, and began banging a wooden hammer he called a "gavel." It took a minute, but eventually the audience, Delegates and Senators took their seats.

"Thank you, I would like to extend many welcomes and thanks to the President and Chancellor for accepting my invitation to speak here at a joint session of congress today. I would also like to thank the Quarian delegation for accepting my offer as well." Singh announced into a microphone, his voice echoing throughout the chamber.

"As I have briefed this congress three days ago and as the Honorable President has explained to the nation two days ago, we have come to an important decision. We hereby ask that the Senate vote to pass a non-aggression pact with the Quarian Migrant Fleet, and upon its passage we ask them to personally debate the any potential treaty the Quarian Delegation wishes to propose here and now." He said.

There was a bout of grumbling from the Isolationist section of congress, but two people stood; the Constitutionalist Majority whip, a gold colored AI by the name of Senator Anytus Polonius and Federalist Minority whip Senator Telephus Stevens.

"As Majority whip, I hereby move to pass a non-aggression pact through the senate by majority vote in this joint session of congress." Polonius announced.

"As the Federalist minority whip I second this motion." Stevens stated.

Singh hit his gavel once, "Motion passed, all Senators please vote either for this non-aggression pact, vote against this pact, or abstain."

There was a bit of grumbling in the audience and the Delegates as the Senators began voting, so Singh banged his gavel again, "Order please. I will remind the audience that you are here on permission of Congress and can be removed if you prove to be disruptive."

After about a minute, the Clerk touched something hidden behind the podium and said, "Voting concluded. With all 228 Constitutionalists voting aye, all 123 Federalists voting Aye, 101 Isolationists voting aye, 27 Isolationists voting no, and 21 abstentions; the United Confederacy-Migrant Fleet non-aggression pact is passed." There was a round of applause from the audience as Rael felt his shoulders sag somewhat in relief. Beto and Han shifted, but Rael could tell they were pleased, Nato was as motionless as when he had taken his seat. They all had the same thought swirling through their minds, _one group of people who won't attack us on sight. And a third of their race are AI's to boot._

After a few minutes, Singh banged his gavel a third time to restore order to the chamber.

"Now then, I give the floor to Admiral Beto'Raan vas Tonbay." He said calmly.

Beto stood and walked up the stairs up to the fifth and unoccupied podium. He adjusted the mic, "Thank you Mr. Prime Minister. It is my distinct honor to be here and to represent my people in front of this assembly. The potential terms of our treaty with you is rather simple; we desire a Dextro based world where we can grow food that is edible to us and live on in general. Along with the promise of your military to protect our people and ships should we be attacked." He said.

There was a pause, then Senator Polonius stood; "Prime Minister, Admiral may I have the floor?"

The two both gave him a nod and the AI asked; "Admiral, do these terms represent the Quarian Conclave and the Admiralty board as a whole?"

Beto again nodded, adding; "They do Senator, we… aren't used to getting much; and really with our population so low we cannot really spread our roots as much as we would like to."

The AI seemed stunned for lack of a better term.

Everyone in the chamber did for that matter, with the exception of the Triumvirate who kept up their stoic expressions. "We… understood your species was endangered, the President's address and the Prime Ministers briefing told us as much but we didn't get any specifics. What is your current population Admiral?"

Rael could see Beto hesitate for a brief moment, "17 million, we maintain it through strict birthing laws."

The chamber erupted into roars of disbelief and protest. What they were protesting Rael wasn't exactly sure, but it was deafening. Udina, Polonius, and Stevens tried to calm their parties while security tried to calm the audience to little avail.

_GONG!GONG!GONG!_

Everyone cringed and covered their ears, including the Quarians. _Ah… right... the bell, kind of forgot about that._ Rael thought.

"I will again remind everyone not a member of Congress that you are here on invitation. Don't cause anymore disruptions or else those who are the source of it will be removed and have their passes revoked." Singh roared with a very annoyed expression on his face. "Senator Polonius, please continue."

The AI nodded, "It seems to me that one planet is nowhere near enough to suit your needs, we have discovered 4 Dextro based planets habitable to life, all rather close to each other. I propose that they be given to the Quarian people, and I propose that our Warp drives be given to their fleets as well to better facilitate their expansion. And I propose a formal alliance with the Quarian people, to come to their aid whenever they need it."

_That is… very generous terms to say the least._ Rael thought.

Beto apparently thought the same, "I… those terms are more than acceptable to me, and I think to the fleet as a whole. I accept the proposal on behalf of the Quarian people should your Senate pass it."

The vote was taken quickly, "In a unanimous vote, the Senate passes the Quarian-Humanity Treaty. We are hereby allies now Gentlemen." The Prime Minister said.

* * *

**Yankee Station, UCNS Antietam**

"_When those Turian ships came through the relay cannons blazing at the Quarian Pickets, I knew right then that war was inevitable. We had made a promise to protect them through any means. Now it rested on me to protect the Migrant Fleet." –Admiral Steven Hackett_

It had been a boring few days at Yankee Station after the resolution had been passed. Diplomatic ships were busy ferrying portions of the fleet to the Quarian people's new homes.

Admiral Hackett, in charge of the First Contact Fleet, or Task Group 7 was on picket duty with the Quarian security ships that had been picked for the task.

Hackett was very young for a Rear Admiral, but he was one of the most celebrated officers in the Confederacy Navy; known for his quick thinking and innovative tactics when it came to fleet combat, he Graduated 4th in his class at Reach Navel Academy.

It was Sunday, which meant it was mail day for the picket fleet. Most of the crews were relaxed and confident, most of the Migrant fleet had already left for their new homes; having found more Relays in Confederacy space.

Many of the crews were looking forward to shore leave on Shanxi, when Turian Admiral Pompepilia Isarius' Fleet came through the relay with next to no warning.

* * *

"_Admiral Hackett! Unknown contacts emerging through Yankee Relay!" A crewman exclaimed, many other crewman hopping to their stations while the AI's attempted to send a contact packed; First in English then in Kheelish. George, who had since returned to the fleet, popped into view on the holotank. _

"_What am I looking at George?" Hackett asked _

"_1 Battleship, 3 heavy cruisers, 6 light cruisers, 4 destroyers, and 7 destroyer escorts." The AI informed him._

_Hackett was cursing his luck, he was outnumbered and outgunned. His biggest advantage was his carriers; the Quarians didn't count since they were under a different command structure. All he could do was hope and pray these new aliens were friendly. _

* * *

Admiral Isarius, stunned by the appearance of these new ships, ordered her fleet to hold their fire. But General Desolas Arterius, infuriated the Quarians had activated a relay, overruled her and the fleet opened fire.

* * *

"_Orders admiral?" Castis asked nervously. These new species, whoever they were, had clearly already made contact with the Quarians. Pompepilia pondered what to do, while she outnumbered the Quarians picket ships and the Aliens; the rest of the Migrant Fleet, or at least a healthy portion of it, was still nearby. _

"_Hold your fire, let's not provoke anyone needlessly." She decided._

"_The Aliens perhaps, but the Quarians must be punished. They have activated the relay and have broken a cardinal rule of Citadel Law. Besides, these aliens clearly want nothing to do with the suit rats; look how they keep their fleets separate. They'll probably thank us for ridding them of the pest. Open Fire on the Quarians." General Arterius ordered._

"_WHAT!? NO!" Pompepilia attempted to intervene, but it was too late. Her fleet fired at the Quarian Frigates, practically vaporizing them._

* * *

The ten Quarian frigates were destroyed in a matter of seconds, killing close to 1,000 Quarians; most never even reaching their escape pods.

Hackett was stunned, but quickly became enraged at the blatant brutality and lack of restraint by this new species. He ordered his carriers to head towards the remaining ships of the Migrant fleet, at the same time he scrambled all of his aircraft to the attack; over 150 Crusaders, and Chariots quickly launched.

The destroyers and destroyer escorts laid a protective camouflage screen; using a sort of webbing that would take an octagonal shape when deployed, and would give the appearance of empty space behind it. However, while masking the Carriers and Cruisers retreat, the maneuver exposed the destroyer force.

"_We were in a position to shield our 'flattops' from the big bad, (chuckles,) bad wolves. And when we were going back and forth making this initial Camo-screen, they tended to shoot a little bit more at us. And we started, uh, getting pretty nervous about it; what with all the cannon rounds shooting right by us. But our AI's did an amazing job with the ECM suite and making sure they had to actually physically aim their guns rather than let computers do it." -Capt. Chromis Hallenbob; UCNS River Styx, Gunnery Officer. UCN. (Ret.)_

The ship closest to the advancing Turian fleet was the destroyer UCNS _River Styx._ Her captain, Commander Salali Adair was not about to let the enemy overwhelm her fleet without a fight. Not waiting for orders, she went on the offensive.

In what seemed like a suicide mission, she ordered flank speed full right rudder. The _River Styx_ broke defensive formation and steamed directly towards the enemy fleet.

"_I talked to the Captain, and the only thing that I mentioned to her was 'Please don't let us go down with our torpedoes aboard.' I had been in a major battle against a pirate fleet two years earlier, and I was on another destroyer and we didn't fire any of our torpedoes; so I wanted to get those launched. She looked me right in the eye and all she said was, 'well lets go ahead and make our torpedo attack.'" –Capt. Hallenbob_

In order to get within range of an effective torpedo strike, the _Styx_ had to close to within half a light hour to minimize the time for point defense guns to disable the torpedoes. But the Turians navel guns could effectively strike at four to five times that distance.

A single round from the _Righteous Fury_'s main cannon could kill everyone aboard the _River Styx._

The Turians rapidly began blasting away at the approaching vessel, well beyond the range of any counter fire. However, thanks to George and many other "digital AI's" in the fleet, the Turians automatic targeting system couldn't lock on to any one target.

The _Styx _rapidly closed on the enemy cruisers; at one light hour away she opened fire at the lead heavy cruiser _TFS Primarch's Wrath_; Perfect striking distance for the _Styx's_ railguns.

"_I didn't think we could force through the armor of a cruiser, provided we could even get through the shields that is. So I aimed at the less armored areas where we could rough 'em up a little bit; knock off their smaller gun crews and disable their point defense guns, things like that."_ _–Capt. Hallenbob_

In ten furious minutes, the _Styx's_ main battery unleashed over 200 rounds. The first 100 or so bounced off the _Wraths _shields. But the rest downed the shields and began wreaking havoc on the less armored areas of the ship.

54 pound shells exploded on the _Wraths _bridge, killing the captain and most of the command staff, throwing the ship into chaos; allowing the _Styx _to close on the giant enemy ship, torpedoes primed.

* * *

_The __UCNS River Styx__ was a __Hades Gate class destroyer__, designed for screening against enemy destroyers and prowlers. She was armed with six 5-inch rail guns, four duel mount __40mm Bofors AA guns__, and eight __24-inch mk. 80 space torpedoes__ housed in the eight torpedo tubes in her bow. Her torpedoes, like all of the Confederacy's smaller naval ships, were the destroyer's strongest weapon. However due to point defense turrets, the torpedoes had to be launched as close to a target as possible; to maximize the torpedoes chances of reaching the target. –Confederacy Wikipedia_

* * *

The _River Styx_ pressed forward to within torpedo range, Commander Adair deciding not to use her jump drive in order to save it for a quick escape. Incredibly the shocked enemy gunners fail to score a single hit.

Upon getting a perfect firing solution on the cruisers, Adair gave the order to fire the torpedoes. Eight 24 inch torpedoes flew toward the enemy ships at 60 light-knots; after firing, the _River Styx _maneuvered sharply away.

For a few tense seconds, nothing; then a series of powerful explosions.

"_The __Primarch's Wrath__ has her bow blown off by one of the torpedoes from the __River Styx__; she sheers out of line crippled. Then the light cruiser, the __Spirits Plague__ takes two torpedoes amid ships; one stopped by her shields, but the other strikes true and blows a huge hole in her hull and she's forced to fall out of line as well. So right off the bat at the battles outset, owing to Commander Adairs audacity in attacking alone, two of the nine Turian cruisers were out of the fight in the first twenty minutes." –Reach University Historian, Howard Linebacker._

But the _River Styx'_s triumph comes with a price; upon launching her torpedoes she now found herself within ten kilometers of Admiral Isarius' flagship, and in perfect position for the main cannon to fire with manual aim.

At 1527 hours, the _TSF Righteous Fury_ fired her main cannon. A projectile, equal in force to a 14 inch main battery on a battleship, sliced right through the _Styx_'s shields, hull, and then the engine room.

Her speed was cut in half; now only making 70 light-knots, easy prey.

Seconds later three 6 inch point defense rounds, possibly from the now crippled _Spirits Plague_, smashed into the bridge and main tower.

"_It just felt like the whole ship was picked up by some giant and shaken around. Our tower, the main tower, was turned into molten slag and bent in two. I was in the gun directory just in front of it, and I turn and look out the window and I see this tower coming down…_

_Um… complete chaos…" –Capt. Hallenbob_

The enemy shells ended up paralyzing the _Styx_'s four aft 5 inch gun turrets. Most of the command crew were killed instantly, and all of the survivors were injured. Commander Adair herself had most of her left hand ruined, had shrapnel wounds all over her body, and had all of her cloths blasted or burned off including her skivvies.

"_My gun was under the control of Lt. Hallenbob in the gun director. But… when that first hit occurred, everything went blank. My comm equipment, the auto loaders, and electronic targeting system… We were completely out of commission." -CPO. Robert H. Yusan, Gunners Mate; UCN. (Ret.)_

Undeterred, in fact now rather angry, Adair and the remains of the command staff abandoned the remains of the bridge; nothing left behind but blood and gore, a scene of unimaginable carnage. The decks now slippery with blood, Adair still refused to abandon ship. She ordered a warp jump back to the fleet and immediately began trying to restore power to her 5 inch guns.

For the time being however, the _River Styx _was out of the fight.

* * *

Admiral Pompepilia Isarius was enraged; With the Quarians for breaking council law and causing that idiot to overrule her orders, with the aliens for now engaging her fleet despite the fact she didn't attack them; and most of all enraged with General Arterius for starting this whole mess.

She roared in anger, not caring that Desolas was technically her equal in rank, and spun around and grabbed him by the throat. "I should space you right now you worthless ground pounding impulsive bastard!" She screamed.

The rest of the crew kept their eyes on their stations, busy trying to fend off the alien's fighters and bombers. Only 35 total defense fighters against over 150 fighters and bombers. And the aliens, either through VI's or other means, had effectively neutralized her fleets automatic targeting for point defense and heavy weapons; now her crews had to aim their guns manually, something they had practice with, but it was something they never used.

It was how that alien destroyer had gotten so close to launch… whatever the hell those weapons were.

She was only vaguely aware of Captain Vakarian keeping Spectre Arterius restrained so she could get her point across. "What do you mean? We were enacting council law!" Desolas choked out.

Pompepilia tightened her grip, "You fucking idiot, do I have to explain everything to you?! These aliens don't know that, and they and the Quarians were talking with each other at the very least! And now they just watched ten of their allies ships get vaporized right in front of them! How did you think they would react?!"

She drew him close until their manibals were almost touching; "Now I have a battle to fight, and try to win. Get off my bridge, go to your troops and tell them to prepare boarding teams. They are to take prisoners and only fire in self-defense.

I am not taking responsibility for this.

YOU will face the Primarch about this.

YOU will answer his questions as to why we are now at war with a species that is potentially more powerful than us.

I will not answer his questions in YOUR stead.

I will only answer on MY behalf.

NOT YOURS! NOW GET OUT!" Pompepilia roared, throwing Desolas out of the hatch and into the hallway. He stumbled, turned to glare at her for a moment, and then jogged down to the hanger by. Saren followed after him, throwing her his own glare.

She took a breath after they left, as much as she didn't want to admit it she would probably be facing serious trouble from them later on. Assuming that they all survived that is.

She turned and went back to overseeing the battle. These aliens and their technology were difficult to deal with to say the least. The Frigates and Destroyers had deployed some kind of optical camouflage, preventing her gunners from getting a good view of the cruisers and the hollow tubes that had launched the aircraft.

She was still a little baffled that two of her cruisers had been effectively disabled by one destroyer. She had made the damned thing pay, but it still managed to get away by going FTL back to its fleet. Though from what she could see it was still disabled.

"Admiral, the Aliens other Destroyers and Frigates are now closing in on us!" A crewman shouted.

Pompepilia snapped her head around and looked right at the man. "Their approaching fast, their firing their rail guns! Oh spirits, their fighters and bombers have destroyed the last of our fighter screen!"

_BOOM!_

The ship shook a little, as one of the aliens bombers sailed by, a pair of bay doors on its belly now closing. The Admiral decided to amend her earlier statement to the idiot General.

She would not face the consequences… provided she actually won.

* * *

With the _Styx _having bought the migrant fleet precious time to escape, Hackett realized that he needed to go on the offensive to buy more time. He ordered a "small boys attack," a offensive tactic where the destroyers and the destroyer escorts go on a torpedo run. Incredibly, by the time the attack commenced, the _River Styx'_s damage control teams had managed to restore power to two of her four aft 5 inch gun turrets.

Commander Adair, determined to keep fighting and help her fleet, ordered flank speed and moved to cover the slower and more vulnerable destroyer escorts.

While the seven ships moved into range, raking the enemy ships with their 5 inch guns, the 130 or so remaining fighters and bombers moved in for strafing runs and mock bombing runs.

Since the First Contact fleet had been prepping for a police action at new Athens, the Escort Carriers were not properly loaded for anti-ship action. And after peaceful contact and the Alliance pact was signed, it was assumed the Quarians could properly watch the relay while a resupply tender replaced the ammunition on the Escort Carriers with proper anti-ship capabilities.

But the resupply tender had still been another day away due to a screw up in procurement. Now they had to make due with what was available.

"_Many of these planes were armed with Spacial Charges, or Cannon rounds, and in some cases, essentially nothing at all because they had to scramble as fast as possible. And their job was to bear down on that enemy fleet and do something, anything to stop their fleet and their allies from being run down like dogs on a highway and slaughtered by these massive ships."_ -_Howard Linebacker_

While doing little damage to the Turian ships, their brave attacks succeeded in forcing the Turian ships into defensive maneuvers and to stop their attack on the Confederacy fleet.

At 1541 hours, the destroyers reached optimum strike range for their torpedoes. On their commander's orders, both destroyers launch their eight torpedoes. Sixteen torpedoes, at 60 light-knots, flew towards their targets.

Three of the torpedoes malfunction short of their targets, exploding when their rocket boosters burn out. Another eight are destroyed by the Turians point defense guns. But the remaining five track true to their targets.

Two Turian destroyers are practically vaporized by the explosive warheads in the torpedoes. Another cruiser's engines are completely obliterated, forcing it to stop dead in space.

The last two track to the _Righteous Fury,_ the first one stopped by the kinetic barriers; but the second hits the _Fury'_s main cannon and completely destroyed it.

By this point, the destroyer escorts and the _Styx_, still limping along, reach their striking distance. The destroyer escorts fire their torpedoes, all the while the _River Styx_ firing her few remaining 5 inch guns.

"_Every time we could get keyed onto something we fired, and we kept firing for as long as we possibly could." -CPO. Yusan_

In the storm of torpedoes, each destroyer escort having four; 3 Turian frigates are destroyed, along with another Turian destroyer, and another light cruiser is disabled.

But at 1553, the fleet shudders under the first of several devastating hits.

The Escort Carrier _Krakow,_ takes a salvo of Turian rounds equivalent to 8 inch shells. While the _Antietam _is hit by several different types of enemy salvos, some bouncing off her shields, while others punch through, causing severe damage to the aircraft hanger bay.

Then two of the destroyer escorts take three and five hits respectively, disabling their four 5 inch guns and forcing them to jump back to the fleet.

Then the Destroyer _Persephone's Garden_ takes a direct hit to her engines, then her ammunition storage lockers. The ship exploded into thousands of pieces, lost with all hands.

Finally the Cruiser _Stuttgart_ takes a main battery round amid ships, punching through her shields and disabling her guns.

* * *

Hackett was mentally cursing a blue streak so wide that it would have made 20th century sailors turn red in shame.

He was losing, that much was clear.

Half of his ships were now disable in some capacity, and all of them had taken hits. The Alien fleet seemed to have lost about half of their ships; the problem was that he was in no position to capitalize on the enemies' weakness. Plus the other half of the enemy fleet had only minor damage, things like having their smaller gun crews knocked off and the like.

The _River Styx_ had it the worst though, half of her guns were disabled, her bridge and main tower were in a tumbled heap of metal, her shields were down, half her compartments were breached, and worst of all her jump drive was disabled.

He had lost about a third of his planes, the rest he had ordered back to be rearmed and refueled.

_Okay admiral, now what do you do?_ He thought to himself.

"Admiral Hackett! Good news, the migrant fleet is away!" a crewman exclaimed.

The crew began to whoop and holler and Hackett allowed himself a small smile. Now they had achieved their sole objective, by the remains of the Migrant Fleet time to slip away. Now he was free to leave, but the Alien ships could still hit his ships as they built up the speed for a warp jump.

And there was still the matter of dealing with the_ River Styx. _

* * *

Unbeknownst to Hackett, Commander Adair had already thought of her solution.

"_The captain came over the intercom and ordered everyone to the life boats. She said, 'I am about to do something that I cannot ask any of you to do as well. Abandon ship and make your way to the other ships.'_

_We did just that, we all knew what she intended to do; I made things a little easier for her by programming manual control back to the secondary bridge. We all rushed out to the boats, but I ran back to the secondary bridge to tell her what I did._

_I got there and she was still covered in soot and ash, bleeding from over a dozen cuts and shrapnel wounds, and still buck naked. She looked at me and the AI vanished from the pedestal. _

_I think she saw the expression on my face because she walked over and hugged me tight. She said, 'Good luck Chromis. If you make as good a ship's captain as you did a gunnery officer, you will go far in life. Goodbye, tell the crew that I'm proud of them, they were like sons and daughters to me; and God bless you all.'_

…_…_

_I'll never forget that…" –Capt. Hallenbob_

With her crew safe, Adair piloted her damaged and crippled destroyer back towards the enemy fleet.

Hackett, having received word from Adairs AI, could only watch.

The _Antietam _was the last ship to jump away, sensors reported that the _River Styx _was still firing her guns at any ship that approached it. But eventually her damaged engines faltered and quit, leaving her dead in space with only emergency power left to power life support and her guns.

Enemy destroyers had stopped and encircled the crippled ship firing relentlessly.

When the navigator on the _Antietam_ asked if they should jump away or not; Hackett, unable to bring himself to speak, only nodded.

The _River Styx _was destroyed a few minutes later. Commander Adair was never seen again, Turian boarders never locating her body. She was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.

Tactically, the battle was a pyrrhic Turian victory. Half of their ships were disabled or destroyed; all of them had been damaged in some way. However the Confederacy had been forced from the field.

Strategically, the battle was a minor victory for the Confederacy. While they had lost Yankee station for the time being, Task Group Seven's most important fleet assets had escaped with only moderate damage. And more importantly the Quarian Migrant fleet had escaped, the entire battle captured live and sent all across the fleet and Confederacy internet.

It showed humanity and the Quarian people that the Confederacy could and would follow through on their promise to protect their friends, no matter the cost.

**A/N: FINALLY IM DONE WITH FIRST CONTACT STUFF!**

**Ugh… I really should have split this into two chapters, but I didn't want to waste any more time with first contact, we got a war to fight you know. Time to answer some reviewers and their concerns.**

**-For the person that told me that the Lincoln family line died off in the 80's;**

**I genuinely had forgotten about that; but that's fixed with an easy retcon. This is an Alternate Universe, so some things are going to be a little different. **

**-Another comment had the concern that since the Marines and Navy answered to one person, and the Army and Air force answered to another that would cause issues fighting a war.**

**That is a good concern that I had already had an answer to, and an issue that in hindsight I should have addressed in my codex's early on. Again it's a simple solution. Think of it like this, the lowest and greenest officer technically outranks the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy. Are you going to see that officer order the MCPON around? Of fucking course not. It's a similar kind of thing with the Chancellor ordering Marines and Sailors around. She technically can't command them, but if you value your head, nuts, and career you aren't going to ignore one of the three most powerful people in the confederacy when they give you an order.**

**-2.1 million deaths is too low a number of deaths in an interstellar war that lasts 4 years.**

**That's fair, but do keep in mind that I don't intend for this to be total war. (At least at first.) I'm kind of following the American Civil war metric; most people don't know but the first two years of the war actually weren't that bloody. Yes the major battles were horrific but they were sporadic. It was only in the last year of the war when both sides smartened up their tactics and everything descended into trench warfare did it get bad. The last year of the civil war was really just a precursor to WW1; the only real difference was that once side just lost their ability to wage war because they were starving.**

**If any reader has concerns or wants to ask me a question in private, please; I encourage him or her to do so, and it would be an honor to talk with ya.**

**Any criticisms and reviews are greatly desired so please leave them.**

**And as always; See ya when I see ya.**


	10. Fallout of War

**A/N: Real quick the previous chapter was re-uploaded with a few things fixed, mainly the distances. It's in light hours now; though I didn't realize that wasn't much of an improvement as now everything was really far away until after I made the upload. Fuck it, I refuse to go back and change it a third time. I'll just retcon it saying that since the invention of warp, light hours is now a new method of measurement. If my story ever gets its own TV Tropes page, number 1 on there is gonna be "Writers can't do Math." Sorry for the long note, back to the story.**

"_1,000 Quarians… about 2,500 Humans and AI's, and about 2,000-3,000 Turians were killed in the First Battle of Yankee Station. In Confederacy space, such numbers were looked at with a sad shake of the head; perhaps a quick prayer thrown in for the deceased's souls and their families._

_For the Quarians, Turians, and the rest of Citadel space such numbers were looked upon like it was a bloodbath. The last real major war that the Citadel species had fought was the Krogan rebellions, and while the numbers made even our war against them look like a simple slap fight; no one was alive from that time period to remember such horrific numbers._

_The Turians of course down played the numbers, keep up appearances and all that. But neither side was really ready for the four yearlong slugfest that would rage across the galaxy in 10,000 places; including Palaven and Earth." –General Octavia Elizabeth Lee, UCA_

**UCNS Antietam **

Hackett tried not to squirm under the withering glares of his superiors.

President Grant was gripping a glass of whiskey so tightly that Hackett was honestly surprised that it hadn't shattered into a million pieces. Chancellor Isaaman was reading through battle reports, but her eyes seemed like they were on fire. The cabinet members of the executive were openly scowling and staring off into something unseen from his hologram. The Prime Minister wasn't back from his emergency session of Congress yet, but Hackett knew deep down the man was furious like the rest of them. The Joint Chiefs were all quietly conversing with each other, what though Hackett had no clue.

The Quarians were shifting between quiet depression and open anger, them at least Hackett could tell who they were angry with. He was just glad it wasn't him; that disaster that he had, for lack of modesty, managed to save a few days ago still stung somewhat.

The only one that was nervous in being in conversation with the bigwigs like him was the hologram of the woman on his left; Major General Octavia E. Lee of the United Confederacy Army; in command of the 31st Army Engineering division.

Lee was now the defacto leader of the ground defense of Shanxi; and with the orbital shields in place, she was now building large networks of trenches and tunnels that would have made the armies during WW1 and Vietcong respectively turn green with envy.

The conversations drifted off as the Prime Ministers Hologram finally appeared.

"It was close, the Isolationists fought tooth and nail; but the moderates sided with us. We have now issued an official declaration of war. Now we must turn our thoughts to the task at hand… John, you have been given the emergency powers that come with wartime. Ayelet… we need you to give him command of the Army and Air Force." He said, sounding very tired.

The Chancellor stood, raised her right hand and said, "As Chancellor of Nations, in front of these witnesses I hereby give Control of the Army and Air Force to the President of the People to better wage this war of defense against our enemies. I reserve the right to take control away should the President exceed his authority in waging this war." Her voice was clinical, like a doctor talking during surgery.

The President for his part seemed to age 10 years as she finished her declaration. He was now the most powerful man in the Confederacy. "As President of the People, I accept control of the Army and Air Force. Now that that's out of the way; Admiral Hackett, General Lee give your reports."

Hackett and Lee looked at each other, before Lee shrugged and stepped forward.

"We have spent the entire week entrenching and tunneling all over Shanxi. The orbital shields are in place and fully functional, and the anti-aircraft emplacements are in place at all the major cities and towns of strategic and tactical importance and ready to blow anything unfriendly out of the sky.

I don't plan on letting them get even close to those cities and let them cut off our supplies.

We've intentionally left undefended landing zones to force the Turians to land and follow the paths we want. I'm going to draw this out, pick them off as they March. Once they reach the trenches we'll make sure to stop whatever we haven't killed." Lee said.

Grant nodded and looked at Hackett.

He took a breath, "The entire 7th fleet has finally arrived; we have the fleet carrier _Enterprise_, and 6 escort carriers including the damaged _Antietam _and _Krakow_. We've finally been resupplied with proper anti-ship ordinance along with the anti-ground ordinance we still have left from Yankee station.

The Battleships _Guadalcanal _and _Tarawa_ are in place and holding position outside of the relay we uncovered that leads to Yankee Station.

We have 18 heavy Cruisers, 27 Anti-Aircraft/Light Cruisers, 43 Destroyers, and 70 Destroyer Escorts with them. And we have 5 cruisers, 11 destroyers, and 23 destroyer escorts with the carriers, who are holding position in orbit above the planet." He said calmly.

The President nodded, "Good, you did a great job there Hackett; protecting the Migrant Fleet and salvaging your own. I'll make sure that Commander Adair gets that Medal of Honor you recommended her for. If she's alive we'll have to keep it secret so she doesn't get targeted as a POW. Now…"

He glared at the Quarians. "Care to explain why the Turians opened fire on you and then us?"

The five admirals shifted uncomfortably; silently glad that they weren't with the president physically at the moment, the delegates having since returned to the fleet.

"Opening a relay is a offense punishable by death in council space. The Turians probably assumed you helped us activate it and tried to destroy your fleet to after they were finished with ours." He said weakly.

Grant glowered for a moment, then looked at Hackett; "How many ships are there in the enemy fleet?"

"About 350 ships have now come through the relay, we're outnumbered sir. But our AI's gave us a distinct advantage during the Battle of Yankee Relay. The Turians had to use manual targeting on us once the AI's started our ECM suite. We also have ten orbital defense guns in place as well now, which should give us better odds." Hackett replied.

* * *

**The White House, Washington; Earth**

Grant was trying his hardest not to break the glass he was holding.

He wasn't mad at Hackett, no that man deserved a promotion for salvaging that disaster. He was a little annoyed with the Quarians for not warning them about the threat on the other side of Yankee Relay. Yes they knew about Council space, the Geth and all that, but that had been a far off distant thing that the Quarians had said was still far away.

Now they were a very present and real reality that was gunning for them. Now there were more relays being discovered in human space, all of them being blockaded with Task Groups since they were already being stretched thin.

He had given the order for more Carriers and warships, and the Confederacy was already gearing up and mobilizing for war. But that would take time they didn't have.

He was just angry with the situation in general. _I had such a nice dinner planned and everything. Guess you'll have to wait my little archer and hearth._ He thought.

He rubbed his eyes,

"Alright, if you two need anything let me know. We've been blockading any relay that leads out of human space that we find, but Shanxi and Yankee station take priority since there's an actual fleet there. Make sure you send out the alert if the Turians make a move." He ordered.

Lee and Hackett nodded, their holograms disappearing. The others began reading reports that Grant barely listened too, his mind was in a far off place. He just hoped Artemis was okay at her classes; the media wasn't exactly being kind to him at the moment.

* * *

"Alien Lover!" Artemis ignored the latest jeer thrown at her as she walked down the hall, though she unconsciously brightened her glow in anger.

It was times like this that she really wished she was homeschooled, or that her dad wasn't the president. Artemis was an AI, meaning she was smarter than the average human; she didn't let on to just how smart she was though. She outpaced even some of her AI classmates; what dragged her down was her inability to focus, something that had always plagued her father.

That and she suspected that she had caught her caretakers somewhat fiery temper, she was quick to anger if provoked. Artemis was smart alright, and she had the sneaking suspicion that her dad and "Caretaker" were close in more ways than one.

The Secret Service Agents kept their distance as usual, remaining a part of the background.

Her dad wasn't exactly popular at the moment, vouching for Aliens that hated AI's and who ended up drawing in a new species that also hated AI's and other aliens. Artemis walked into her history class, about a third were AI's as usual. To an outsider, it was odd seeing how AI's dressed; they always dressed to a "theme," of sorts. George, one of her father's key advisors was always dressed in a WW2 general's uniform, she and Vesta dressed like Ancient Greeks; it always depended on the AI.

Artemis took her seat, not really paying attention to the lesson as class started; It was one of those days, where you only really half listened in case the teacher asks a question and you didn't want to be embarrassed by not knowing the question or the answer.

She just hoped her dad wouldn't be too worn out by the time she got home. She always tried to keep his spirits up; if that didn't work she would go to Vesta instead and see if she could cheer him up.

She had to resist the urge to put her head down on her desk; her progressive insomnia was getting more intolerable, and apparently stress made it worse. _I wonder what the new aliens are thinking right now._

* * *

**TSF Righteous Fury**

Admiral Pompepilia Isarius, Captain Castis Vakarian, Spectre Saren Arterius, and General Desolas Arterius all watched the Primarch and Turian Councilor sift through the information they had sent forward about the aliens that had attacked them.

"These aliens nearly defeated you despite being outnumbered and only having frigates and destroyers." The Primarch asked.

"No sir, they had 6 cruisers. But half of them were odd; they seemed to be exclusively used for carrying strike aircraft. I am chagrined to admit it, but those alone nearly beat us once our fighter screen was knocked out." Pompeplia answered.

"Hm. Confirmed presence of AI's on the one ship they left behind. They might not have opened the relay, but they are even guiltier than the Quarians it seems." The Councilor noted.

Castis shifted uncomfortably, but Pompepilia could tell they were thinking the same thing. _A law that they had no knowledge they were breaking._ Neither dared voice their objections however.

"It seems congratulations are in order for all of you; you General for punishing the Quarians and the Aliens, and you Admiral for fighting off an unknown foe and forcing them to retreat." The Primarch said.

They all took the praise wordlessly, giving him a quick salute. "Have you found where these aliens are from?" he asked.

Saren answered this time, "Yes Primarch, a nearby jungle-mountain world. It is likely their home world considering the buildup of ships and cities we have seen from the probes we have sent. We outnumber them, but only barely. But I'm confident we can suppress them once we are groundside. They are clearly a violent species considering how harshly they attacked us."

The Councilor and Primarch both nodded; "Good, move in and suppress them immediately. I'll tell the council that we have discovered a violent new species and we are moving in to suppress and civilize them; a simple policing action." The Councilor said.

After the meeting was finished, they all went back to their duties, prepping themselves for an invasion. Pompepilia felt a certain pall of dread as she gave the order to move to the newly uncovered relay.

"_I realized then that we weren't heading into a quick and easy Police action. We were heading into the jaws of hell to borrow a human phrase. I think me, Castis, and more progressive and religious members in our military could feel that pall that hung over us; that sort of prescience that told us we were making a horrible… horrible mistake." _

–_Memoirs of Admiral Pompepilia Isarius _

* * *

When Isarius' fleet came through, Hackett ordered immediate action. First the digital AI's began to use their ECM suite's and jammed the Turians targeting equipment.

Then the Cruisers and the Battleships began to lay into the bigger ships of the Turian fleet. The battle was on; the _Guadalcanal _and the _Tarawa_ blasting away with their 18.1 inch guns. Both sides opened up with every gun they had; the Turians began to use their more accurate Mass Effect FTL drives to jump into the 7th fleets defensive formations, closing to point blank range to maximize their guns effectiveness while minimizing the advantage the Confederacy could take from their disable targeting software.

As the battle raged across space the Turians began to realize that while the smaller Confederacy vessels had a slight advantage at closer ranges due to their torpedoes, at close range the bigger ships such as the Cruisers and the two Battleships, were vulnerable to precision strikes.

The tide of battle began to turn as Isarius began to exploit this small but important advantage.

"_One problem that human ships always had, all the way back to when we had simple old sailing ships, was that big ships always were overspecialized. They were always meant to do one thing, overwhelm enemy ships in one on one engagements. _

_A Human Battleship against a Turian Dreadnaught, the battleship wins every time. Four dreadnaughts against one battleship; the dreadnaughts would lose one or two of their own, but they would overwhelm the battleship. _

_It's that whole weakness that lead to the usage of Carriers, hundreds of aircraft to overwhelm the defenses of those capitol ships. 'Death by a thousand cuts' is what we call it. And unfortunately the Turians were able to exploit this weakness perfectly during the first naval battle of Shanxi." –Admiral Steven Hackett, Personal Journal_

The Turians began using their frigates as sacrificial lambs for lack of a better term, and began to overwhelm the battleships defenses.

The _Tarawa _retreated first, after a mostly destroyed Turian frigate crashed itself in a suicide run into one of its two 18 inch main batteries and disabled it.

Then the _Guadalcanal_ was forced to make a run for it, 50% of its compartments breached, and two of its three reactors destroyed or disabled.

The Confederacies line began to waver, one more push was sure to break their defenses. Then Admiral Hackett threw in his last reserves. Captain Robert Carpenter's PT boat squadron; fierce fighters at any time, but now enraged at having missed breakfast which had been promised to be their first "real meal" in weeks.

"_The PT boat squadron's arrival on the battlefield was like an omni-blade running through our lines. They destroyed dozens of our frigates and destroyers, just as they had begun to make progress. I had nearly forgotten about the lethal effectiveness of Confederacy torpedoes once they were in range, but the universe seemed all too ready to remind me of it." –Memoirs of Admiral Pompepilia Isarius_

The tide of battle turned again in favor of the Confederacy. The PT boats charged after the fleeing frigates while the rest of the fleet dealt with the disabled and crippled ship left behind; but they were immediately cut down by a hail of lasers and slugs.

After the battle, an officer asked Carpenter where his command was, "Dead in space," he answered.

Slowly but surely, the Turians began to force Hackett's fleet to retreat, sheer numbers combined with their distinct close range advantage causing Hackett to lose ground. After an hour, Hackett ordered the retreat, sending a warning to General Lee about the incoming invasion.

"I will deal with it as best I can, but you must relieve us if we are to be expected to hold the line indefinitely." Lee replied.

Before he ordered the retreat, Hackett authorized a "small boys" attack. Human warp drives, while much faster, were also incredibly inaccurate. Hence their development around sub light naval doctrines and tactics. 12 destroyers and 23 destroyer escorts charged into the Turian formations, unleashing a hail of 5 inch shells and torpedoes. 26 Turian cruisers, destroyers and frigates are destroyed by the storm of torpedoes. Half of the Destroyers and DE's are also destroyed or disabled, but the rest escaped with Hackett's fleet.

The 7th fleet warp jumped away, leaving behind 2 Escort Carriers, 6 of the heavy Cruisers, 13 of the AA cruisers, 30 destroyers, and 41 destroyer escorts as burning wrecks. Over 20,000 Humans and AI's were dead, and another 9,000 captured; the remainder of his forces having all suffered minor to moderate damage before their retreat.

The Turians had suffered more casualties, 35,000 dead, wounded, or missing; along with about half the fleet completely destroyed or disabled. But they could afford the loss, now General Arterius, and Admiral Isarius began their invasion of Shanxi.

* * *

**Shanxi; 70 miles south of Orbital Shield Generator (OSG) 5.**

Hannah carefully moved through the bushes, the jungle forests giving her Marines and the Guardsmen superb cover. _So this is what my ancestors fought in, now I know why they couldn't win._ She thought, remembering that they had fought in the pacific theatre in WW2 and in Vietnam.

Hannah, her platoon of Marines, and two Platoons of Shanxi Guardsmen were advancing to one of the many roads that General Lee and her engineers had made to force the invaders on a certain path. The Turians had fallen for the trick hook line and sinker; already they were getting reports of entire companies of Turians being slaughtered by only one or two platoons of Guardsmen, Soldiers, or Marines.

Her troopers were like ghosts, making next to no noise as they walked; Her _Nightfall _armor was surprisingly quiet all things considered. A Guardsman officer rushed to her, his Asian features hidden behind his mask.

"Ma'am, our AI's are in position; ready when you are." He reported.

"Good, spread your boys and girls out into four man teams; one with each AI. I want to stop them in their tracks; we got reports of vehicles in the enemy column so get the RPG's ready." She ordered.

The man nodded and took off; as much as Hannah was loth to admit, despite their inferior equipment and training the Guardsmen were their equals in many ways. Shanxi had been settled by mostly Japanese immigrants, while Japan was a peaceful country, they still had some of the finest soldiers in the Confederacy. Hannah had the sneaking suspicion that they were trained more than what they let on.

The men still used old M16A4's with various attachments, but they all had bayonets fixed to the barrels. While tactically idiotic, she would have paid to see them go full _Banzai_ charge on the Turians.

"Here they come!" a gold colored AI whispered. He had used mud and put an actual physical uniform on in order to hide his light. He took aim with an RPG at the lead vehicle.

* * *

Saren tried to keep the scowl of his face as he rode in the vehicle. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the primitives were a legitimate and viable threat. Not one suit rat was to be found on the field, probably having abandoned their "allies" to save their own skin. Like what they had done to him.

They were getting reports of fierce resistance, horrible ambushes and traps everywhere the invasion force went. It seemed like the entire planet was one giant trap for them. They had already lost about 5,000 troops and a healthy portion of their vehicles.

What had convinced Saren and his Brother that they were in the middle of a death trap was that they had landed practically unopposed except for a few platoons of what were clearly militia people. As soon as they had landed their forces the primitives Air Force had struck, blasting everything out of the sky that moved.

Then as they began to advance through the highways, they had to stop every kilometer to deal with bombs disabling or destroying vehicles. And every time they stopped, a small platoon sized force would wait until the Turians began to repair the vehicles and retrieve the wounded before they would unleash a firestorm of gunfire. They didn't use grains, instead they used massive slugs, which ripped apart their innards and shattered bone; as opposed to going right through them.

The troops had begun to designate them as "Engineers," because the aliens skill at engineering defenses and death traps was becoming more and more painfully obvious with each passing hour.

They had also been getting frankly ridiculous reports of "spirits" helping the engineers. Glowing bipedal beings that seemed to shoot them with arrows made from light, which burned those hit from the inside out. But Saren had dismissed those reports as exaggerations.

It was why he was here now, to gauge the accuracy of the reports coming in from the field. So far he had to agree that these aliens were engineers at heart. They used every tool in their arsenal to make up for their deficiencies.

_KLANG!_

Saren felt himself get jostled in his seat as the APC careened upward, then he bashed his helmeted head into the roof of the cramped vehicle; and everything went black.

* * *

**A/N; Sorry for the long wait ladies and gents, and for the lower quality chapter; but I wanted to get this out rather than keep you guys waiting any longer. Finals are over which gives me time before summer classes' start up to make some progress. I admit I was a little stumped as to how to do this next chapter, it went through 5 different versions, before I settled for the current version; believe me if you aren't impressed with this one you should read the rejected chapters, oh lord were they bad. **

**The war is going to be picking up now, but most of it I won't cover in this story. Once this one is done, I may do a small collection of side stories from different fronts of the war; but we'll see.**

**For those that may complain that I made the UC navy weak, what makes you think that Hackett didn't want to retreat? When outnumbered and on the defensive, you fight with an elastic defense. Make the enemy fight tooth and nail for your position and then slip away to a new one; bleed your enemy dry. It's what made the south almost win the American civil war several times. (BTW when I say that, I mean the south was one major victory away from having Europe recognize the confederacy, Antietam changed that.)**

**I wasn't able to find any media depicting what Shanxi was like, (although I only played the games so I'm not a good reference point,) so I settled on a landscape similar to Vietnam, mixed with the large mountains and valleys of Afghanistan. Yeah Saren ain't gonna have a good time.**

**If y'all want to make a TV tropes page of my story, please do it. It's one of my favorite sites. **

**Well… leave a review as always; let me know what you think Ladies and Gents.**

**See ya when I see ya.**


	11. Ambush

Saren slowly opened his eyes, a pounding headache telling him he was still alive.

"_Shit! More rockets! Get down now!"_ a voice shouted

_BOOM!_

The APC shuddered, Sarens vision blurred for a moment before straightening out again. He began to close his eyes, feeling a little tired; what was the hurry anyway, he was strapped in and safe.

"SPECTRE! ARE YOU OKAY?!" Another voice screamed in his face. Saren straightened, now fully awake and looked around. He was upside-down, and still strapped into his seat. About a quarter of the rest of the men inside were dead, some still strapped in like him. There were three standing inside, checking to make sure the others really were dead.

"Shit! I'm good, get me down!" He replied, squirming in the straps. The soldier hit the emergency release, and Saren tumbled onto the roof in a heap.

"He's okay!" The soldier yelled out, where Saren could hear both Turian rifles, and the Engineers weapons blasting away at each other.

"TARGETS ON THE LEFT! Cover me while I get the wounded out!" The other voice replied.

The soldier helped him up, and then tossed Saren a rifle. "We got an unknown number of hostiles on both sides of the road! We're falling back to the rally point!" He informed him. Saren grunted, and then a distinctive ripping noise filled his ears.

_BZZTBZZZZZZZZTBZZZT!_

Engineer slugs ripped through the wall of the APC, a line of holes each the size of his thumb traced the side of the vehicle. The poor soldier that had helped him was practically ripped in half, three rounds going through his stomach, another through his spine, and another two blowing his arm off.

Saren ducked, and swore as one round exploded on his kinetic barrier. He growled and made his way out side, keeping low. Just as he exited the vehicle, there was a loud _BANG!_ And a rocket zipped past and struck one of the few vehicles still moving.

_KABOOM!_

The APC flipped up and crashed onto its roof in a burning wreck. The Engineers had laid a perfect trap, and now he was caught in the cross fire. He turned on his inferred thermals to see if he could get a bead on any of the Engineers hiding away in the forest. The damned forest was practically radiating heat, but he was able to get a general direction as to where the Engineers were entrenched.

Saren sprinted over to another destroyed APC, finding a young sergeant trying to salvage the team. "Who's the ranking officer?" Saren asked, sliding up next to the Sergeant.

"I guess you and me sir; these fuckers are cleaver, their targeting officers and noncoms. Poor lieutenant tried to rally us but got his head blown off as he moved from cover." The sergeant informed him.

_BZZZZTBZZZZZZZZZZZZZTBZZZT!_

"Yeah and that machine gun emplacement isn't helping, anyone that gets caught by it gets ripped apart. We're pinned sir, anyone tries to run they get cut down."

Saren thought about what to do for a moment, then grimly realized there was only one thing he could do.

"Sergeant, I have to let General Arterius know what's happening here. I'll take any wounded I can, but need to make it back. I need you to buy me time Sergeant, can you do that?" Saren asked.

The Sergeant nodded, "Yes Spectre I can; just save the men you can sir."

* * *

"Hey Staff, looks like two of the officers survived, their rallying their troops." A Squad leader informed Hannah.

_KLANG!_

A sand grain hit the Marine's helmet, his shield blocking most of it. Confederacy shields didn't waste energy trying to completely stop a projectile. They would either deflect it, or slow it to the point that the armor underneath it could handle the projectile. Didn't mean it wasn't painful though.

"You alright kid?" she asked, rolling him over so he was facing up.

"Yeah I'm good…" he replied, groaning in pain.

Hannah gritted her teeth; she had lost 10 men, the Guardsmen Platoon leads had informed her that they had lost a combined 43 men. Another 17 Guardsmen and Marines were wounded. Still it was far better than what the Turians were dealing with; they had already lost half their force, 100 men easily and probably more.

"Ma'am? Are we free to deploy." The golden AI from earlier asked.

Hannah mulled it over, this was only supposed to be a hit and run nothing more. They hadn't expected the Turians to dig in and fight; her own fault really, she had expected them to either push through or run away. But she had been applying human logic and tactics to aliens, when they very clearly thought different than her.

She didn't want to use what everyone called the "Ghosts," combat trained AI's capable of projecting hard light beyond physically touching them. They were her ace in the hole; and the current doctrine was that if they were deployed, then they either let none retreat, or tried to take them prisoner. But no one could live to report on the AI's.

_Fuck it. _"Just don't let any escape Argos." She ordered.

The AI grinned and threw off his physical uniform, allowing his light to show. The other AI's, upon seeing this did the same. Few AI's served in the infantry, their natural glow being a massive hindrance. But a select group of AI's were part of a Special Forces group known as the "Ghosts" and were deployed with infantry units, oftentimes disguised as regular humans. But when the lights came on, everyone human knew the gloves came off.

"Cease fire everyone, cover the AI's if they miss one, but let them do their thing otherwise." Hannah ordered smirking; she had seen this only once before, and it had been a real treat. Now she and the others could kick back and watch the show.

* * *

Saren had been ready to make a break for it with the wounded and the stretcher bearers when the woods started glowing. The Engineers gunfire trickled off as the glow brightened; there were about ten different colors overlapping, it looked almost ethereal.

Soon the Turians had stopped firing at the Engineers position, wondering what the hell was going on. Then a gold colored figure, glowing like the sun, stepped out of the woods. It looked like an Engineer, but it was clearly not; for one thing it was glowing.

Then it spoke, shocking everyone by speaking fluent _Kheelish_, which their translators were able to pick up on.

"We are the sword of the Lord our father, and the shield of our creators!" The gold colored one shouted.

* * *

Hannah and the others were trying their hardest not to burst out laughing. "He's really laudin' 'em up ain't he?" one of the Guardsmen asked over the radio.

"Oh be quiet, he's just trying to play to their fears that he and the other AI's are spirits." Another sharply rebuked.

_Someone's not having fun._ "Oh let them get their giggles in Sergeant; besides its working, bucket heads look ready to shit themselves." Hannah replied, chuckling.

* * *

Saren wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not, but considering that all the other Turians were staring at the same thing he was, he probably wasn't hallucinating. _Not that the alternative isn't much better._

"What are you?" one of his men stammered in fear. "Are you spirits?"

The Gold one, who seemed to be the leader, smiled; "If that is what you call us then yes. We are the protectors of those you call "the Engineers;" and you have wronged them, you have wronged our friends the Quarians, and you have wronged our people. Feel the wrath of God!"

The sergeant had stepped in front of Saren just as the "Spirit" said that. A golden spear launched forward from the Spirit, and buried itself through his chest and into Sarens side. They both screamed, the piercing sensation overshadowed by the burning in his side. They fell to the ground, the sergeant dead, Saren barely conscious; falling back on his Blackwatch training he played dead, making sure the dead sergeant covered his head and chest.

The Spirits began throwing spears while summoning shields, every time they hit they burned through the armor like jelly and the men screamed from the heat being radiated. One began shooting arrows, nailing every shot with deadly accuracy.

One by one, the 50 or so remaining Turian troopers died to the Spirits wrath. Once there were only 10 left, they threw down their weapons and surrendered. Saren watched as the Spirits moved forward, and then saw the Engineers emerge from cover. Their armor was clearly powered from what he could hear; he didn't dare move a muscle, even when one accidently treaded on his hand.

"Mercy! Please we were just following our orders!" A voice shouted.

Saren slowly moved his eyes, thankful that his visor blocked the tiny movement. He saw the few remaining soldiers on their knees, weapons on the ground.

One of the Spirits stepped forward, this one female and was glowing a forest green. "Orders? Like when you practically executed over 1,000 Quarians and attacker our people for breaking a law that we had no knowledge of? HA! For us that excuse stopped working centuries ago!" she snapped, clearly angry.

"Peace Chione… We are above petty things like revenge." The Gold one said calmly. Then he turned and looked at an Engineer walking up to them. Saren was aware that his motion tracker was going nuts, about three platoons worth of enemy soldiers were now in the area; less than half of his original force to his dismay.

"_Good work Argos; everyone dead check the bodies, no witnesses left behind. Sergeant Wilson take care of the prisoners, start them back to the trenches." _The Engineer, now identified as a female ordered. They weren't speaking in _Kheelish,_ so Saren had no idea what they were saying. The soldiers and, to Sarens surprise, the Spirits moved to follower her orders.

The sergeant's body on top of him jostled, it took all of Sarens Blackwatch training to not stiffen or react in anyway. He snapped his eyes upward, again thankful his visor hid the movement. One of the Engineers had kicked the body on top of him, narrowing his eyes.

Then he took his rifle and gave a shout, burying a blade attached to the end into the dead sergeants left shoulder. The blade was long enough that it went clean through both the body and Sarens armor and into his right shoulder. Saren didn't react as the ice cold feeling spread though his body.

After a second the Engineer yanked the blade out, and shook his head; turning to the next set of bodies and doing the same.

Then the green Spirit from earlier went to check on one of the men Saren had assumed was dead at the start of the battle, and the man whipped out and slashed an omniblade at her. The Spirit wordlessly summoned a leaf bladed sword of some sort, and parried the blade. The Engineers and Spirits along with the prisoners stopped to watch, the Engineers looking amused from behind their helmets and visors; at least that's what Saren assumed from his experience dealing with Asari.

It was a quick fight, the Spirit clearly toying with the poor Turian before she lopped off his hand and omnitool. He screamed as she took and put his head into the palm of her hand. She soothed him, and his screams died down to whimpers.

"Do you submit?" She asked calmly.

The Turian gathered up his courage, and spat in her face. Her gaze turned cold, "Have it your way." Her hand glowed brighter, and to Sarens horror, the Turians eyes were burned out of his head while he screamed the entire time. He flopped to the ground dead, black holes where his eyes used to be.

He noticed that even the Engineers and Spirits seemed a little unnerved by the display.

"_Corporeal!"_ the leader screamed. The Spirit jumped and spun around as the Engineer slapped her in the face. The Spirit stumbled and held her cheek, shock and pain on her face. _"You do not execute prisoners without just cause! We're above that! Surrender your weapons, you are on latrine duty for the next month and you and I will be seeing the CO once we get back!" _

While Saren couldn't understand the rant, it was clear the Engineer was chewing the Spirit out. While he couldn't think of a better name, it was now clear to him that they were not supernatural beings; they were sentient, yes, and they were clearly a different species from the Engineers. Beyond that, he was going to have to start his own file as to the capabilities of these two species. They were savages, and a threat; like intelligent Krogan.

_Savages._ Yes… they definitely needed to be suppressed, he was just glad they were on their home world.

* * *

**White House, Washington D.C; Earth**

"The trap worked sir, Hackett gave 'em a good fight, but he retreated when his carriers started getting hit just like you ordered." George informed him.

Grant gave a wolfish smile and replied, "Good, let's bleed them dry; just like what the Vietnamese did to my people. How are the other fronts doing?"

George looked at an imaginary data slate, a grim expression on his face. "Our chief advantage is that we can use the relays as choke points, and that we have a lot of ground to give. The Fluid defense will work, but this war will drag on for a while. We kill three ships for everyone we lose, but we're still heavily outnumbered. We have fighting at 20 different systems, ranging from minor skirmishes to moderate sized battles.

Casualty reports are coming in now; over 90,000 dead, 150,000 wounded, about 4,000 missing. Low civilian casualties, thank God for the small blessings. About 10,000 dead and wounded, most of it from collateral damage; but I suspect that will change once the Turians figure out that these "Spirits" are really AI's." George said.

Grant took the grim news with no comment. While they seemed like low numbers, this was just from two weeks of fighting; _these small battles are gonna stack up in the end._ Grant realized with sadness.

"This might cost all three of us our respective elections. The Isolationists will prosecute the war just for the sake of keeping our independence now that it's starting to escalate. The Federalists aren't happy about the war, but are more than willing to prosecute it if it means advancing the new amendment.

It's our own party we need to be worried about now; this war is _really_ unpopular with the constitutionalists.

And it doesn't help matters that you and Ves are going ahead with that crazy plan to get married. Congratulations by the way." Singh's hologram said to his right, holding a sheet of reports that he hadn't even looked up from.

Grant twisted the ring on his finger, "Just seemed like the best time to do it if I'm honest. Everyone's too busy freaking out about the war that they won't really care about their President getting married." He replied.

Singh grunted, but didn't say anything.

"I think it's sweet, and very romantic; perfect for a family sitcom almost." Ayelet gushed from Grants right, grinning from ear to ear.

_Lucky her, she gets to be the brides maid. I can probably track Robby down so he can be my best man._ Grant thought to himself.

"Bah, the edge of the maps burned; that kid was playing with it again I bet." Secretary Stanton grumped from the other side of the room, while Secretary Camron rolled his eyes as he went through his own reports.

They all ignored Stanton's grumbling as Vesta peeked through the door.

"John, I need you for a minute." She said calmly.

Grant looked at the others, and the all nodded at him; indicating that he was free to go. He hit the eagle pin on his lapel and it disconnected him from the call. John followed Vesta as she walked to their now shared room, he could feel that something was off but he wasn't sure what.

As they walked in, Grant made sure he shut the door behind him. "Yes Vesta?" he asked.

She gave him a warm smile and grabbed his hand, "John… another one is on its way."

His eyes widened, "Are you…"

"Yes John I'm pregnant."

* * *

**Location; Unknown, deep in Turian Space.**

_UCNS Nyx's Chariot _was doing what it did best; prowling the shipping lanes of an enemy group. Lt. Commander McHale sat in his captain's chair, looking out at the mass relay that was bound to have a Turian resupply convoy come through.

The _Nyx _was a far sight better than the PT73. It was superior in every way; it had four torpedo tubes, but the torpedoes were bigger and he carried sixteen onboard, meaning he could try again if he missed or the torpedoes got shot down.

A dozen point defense lasers, and two 5 inch guns; one in the bow and one in the stern. As opposed to a crew of 10-15, he now had a crew of 45-60 people; and above all else, the temperature regulator actually worked.

But however much he loved the _Nyx's Chariot,_ she wasn't the 73 boat. He didn't know the _Nyx's _quirks, her capabilities, her limits. But she was a good ship, all things considered. "Miss the PT 73 Commander?" a voice asked him.

His XO, a dark purple AI named Nox funnily enough, stood next him. She was clothed in a _Chiton_ with Ancient Greek battle armor over it, and a Spartan helmet resting high on her head.

McHale sighed, "In a way, yes Lieutenant I do. She was my first command, I knew her… I don't know the _Nyx_."

Nox tilted her head in curiosity, "I assure you sir that the ship doesn't have a personality. Neither did the 73 boat."

McHale chuckled; he had to remember that this was her first real mission, and hadn't really been a part of any real cruises. Plus he had been a PT boat skipper, PT Boats and Prowler crews tended to have weird habits that carried over.

All of the crew was green, with the exception of his old crew, and the Quarians on board. The Quarians were not allowed in frontline combat due to their poor immune systems and their low population. But they were allowed to serve in support roles, such as logistical, administrative, and medical services. On ships, they were chiefly kept in the engine spaces, but they could serve in other roles on ships.

"Commander, contact coming out of the relay; it's the convoy sir." Sensors reported.

He snapped his attention out to the view screen. "Stealth systems engaged?" he asked navigation.

"Yes sir, no change in their course, we're green sir." He replied.

"Already getting identification and targeting solutions. Ten supply ships, and four frigates sir." Weapons reported, hands flying across her console.

McHale nodded, "Send a message to FLEETCOM and let 'em know we've found a shipping convoy and will attack when in range. Weapons lock up two torpedoes to one supply ship each."

They all began carrying out their tasks while McHale hit the intercom, "Bridge to Engineering, Lieutenant get the jump drive ready. Make sure the shields are good as well." He ordered.

"Copy that Commander." Krystina replied

Nox went to her station while McHale leaned back in his chair. _Alright metal heads, let's see how you play with U-boat tactics. _He thought.

**A/N: to the reviewer zmanjz; FINALLY! SOMEONE GOT THE REFERENCE!**

**So for the intro with Saren under attack from SSgt Shepherds platoon; the machine gun that makes that buzzing noise, to get a feel for how it really sounds just look up the Medal of Honor Airborne gas mask machinegun trooper intro.**

**For the Person who added my story to the first contact AU community, thank you. Truly thank you. 13K views and my story has been up for less than a month and its already reached that high a number of a viewership is baffling to me. **

**So for those wondering if I plan on following John and Jane Shepherd later on in the story… maybe; I'm still debating on whether or not to have this story exclusively follow the first contact war, or continue on with the games.**

**I gonna be 100 with you guys; beyond all the follows and favorites for this story, I've had a very shitty day. Progressive insomnia has been getting worse and stress isn't helping it, and many other more personal matters happened. I nearly put my fist through my monitor this morning, that's how much of a bad mood I'm in.**

**Sigh… Leave reviews; let me know what you guys think as usual. Also if you're commenting on my grammar for previous chapters; thanks, but chances are I've already caught it, and I just can't bring myself to go back and fix it.**

**See ya when I see ya.**


	12. Politics

_February 20__th__, 2232; New Kyoto, Shanxi._

"_Rain… rain… and more rain. It's been raining so much that the trenches have become canals at this point. I'm thinking of building a boat out of duct tape and charging people money for dry transport around the defenses. _

_Will this damned rain ever go away so our flyboys can get back to bombing the crap out of the bucket heads? _

_You know waging war Vietcong/WWI style really sucks; only been here for 3 weeks now. After that ambush we pulled off we got the few prisoners we took back to our lines and put them to work digging traps, tunnels and more trenches._

_Corporeal Chione has been reassigned out of the unit and will probably face a court martial now; what she did was… disturbing to say the least."_

_-Staff Sergeant Hannah Shepherd, 2__nd__ Marine Division._

* * *

_February 21__st__, 2232; UCNS Antietam_

"_We engaged another Turian patrol fleet, and completely destroyed it; lost a destroyer and a frigate (or destroyer escort as humans call it.) We lost about 30 of our fighters and bombers as well. I have to say, working alongside AI's is… strange; but it is certainly worth it to give these metal heads the throttling they deserve._

_I'm still a little baffled that the Admirals let me be assigned as Hackett's aide; maybe they want me to study how humans fight war, I don't know._

_Heh… Hope little Tali is getting a little brother or sister soon; we have the resources now to have more children. Kleeah sent me a picture of our new house with her and Tali. I'll keep it close._

_Hannah is out at Shanxi, hopefully we'll be rescuing her and the others trapped there soon."_

_-Lieutenant Rael'Zorah vas Antietam_

* * *

**Open War**

Fighting was everywhere across the Confederacy and Hierarchy space. Dozens of Confederacy Prowlers were now destroying Hierarchy convoys by the dozens.

Skirmishes were erupting all across the Orion arm of the galaxy; thousands were dying all across the galaxy.

Amongst it all, the majority of Council space knew next to nothing about the war happening all across their border. The Confederacy, not wishing to anger any of the other major powers in the galaxy, avoided sending any fleets or Prowler wolf packs into any other area except Hierarchy controlled space. The Hierarchy, not wanting to admit at how badly it had fumbled first contact and was now fighting a massive multi-front war was reluctant to draw in any other powers into the war.

The only ones besides the Turians aware of the war were the Asari and Salarian councilors, and as far as they were concerned, it was a simple police action against a rogue Quarian nation.

At Edessan, 7,000 Turians and 3,400 Humans/AI's were killed in the Confederate navel assault to seize the small supply depot at the small planet.

At New Chicago; 5,000 people were killed instantly when the heavy cruiser _Cairo_ was disabled in orbit by a Turian strike force, and the cruiser fell into the city; detonating its ammunition lockers.

At Parthia, the civilian luxury liner _Peoples Spirit_ was accidently torpedoed by the Prowler _Zeus' Bolt _who had mistaken it for a troop transport ship. 3,000 civilians, including 70 children were killed.

At Shanxi, General Desolas Arterius slowly but surely made his way to the Confederate trenches outside of the capitol city of New Kyoto; where General Octavia Lee was waiting. Meanwhile, Admiral Philip Thomas and Admiral Isarius hammered away at each other's fleets; both attempting to either break the others will to fight, or to bleed each other dry.

Now, in addition to fighting a war against an alien power, the Triumvirate also had to quell fires of rebellion at home as well as appease and convince the people that they were fighting for a just cause.

* * *

"_President Grant and Chancellor Isaaman, like all elected officials, were both run fairly crazy by office seekers. You know how it works; person is promised a position in exchange for endorsing a candidate and all that fun stuff. So when the time came and people started coming in to collect, there were more seekers than jobs to go around. _

_One visitor came in to the White House at one point, and ran into the President. He was standing there looking very aggrieved and worried; so the person asked him what was wrong. And all Grant said, 'There are too many pigs for the tits'." –Robert Leaply, Historian._

**Politics**

The Triumvirates troubles were not confined to fighting rebels and Turians alone.

The Executives unwieldy cabinet included Pro-Quarian Federalists, Free soil Federalists, Union Isolationists, Pro-Confederacy Quarians, and War Constitutionalists. Three of them had been Grants rivals for the Constitutionalist nomination, nearly all were privately sure that they could do a better job than their Chief.

Secretary of State Ross Cameron hoped to replace Grant; Secretary of Defense Edward Coal hoped to replace Cameron, while Secretary of War Stanton hoped to replace Isaaman. Vesta Grant told her husband to get rid of all of them.

Instead Grant fired his National Security Advisor Levkina Milda Valerianovna; a Russian mafia boss so corrupt that Secretary Stanton said, "That the only thing she wouldn't steal was a white hot stove."

Levkina's replacement was George Adrian, a ruthless digital intelligence AI from the Republic of California; who strained to protect the executive from "the Joint Chiefs Painful imbecility."

But on one thing the Cabinet, the Triumvirate, and the Quarian Admiralty were agreed, Chief of Naval operations George Johnston was moving too slow in his forays into Hierarchy space. Every assault he made into Turian space was hurled back by Admiral Pompepilia Isarius because he was moving too slow and allowing the Turians to rush in proper defenses.

After much debate, it was decided that Admiral Han'Gerrel would be placed in charge of a new joint Quarian-Confederacy force made up of several Escort Carriers, Quarian ships refitted with Warp Drives, and several Prowler Wolf Packs.

It was Gerrels job to "unsettle" the Turians, and keep the Hierarchy from reinforcing Admiral Isarius' forces, which already greatly outnumbered Admiral Thomas' 7th fleet.

Meanwhile, at Yankee relay Admiral Isarius now found her forces divided. A quarter was now patrolling systems, hoping to catch Gerrel's wolf packs in open combat. A quarter was at Shanxi, another quarter was spread out at over a dozen worlds, and only a quarter were defending the relay.

Admiral Thomas saw his chance, and attacked on February 23rd; for six days the two fleets clashed all along the system. The Confederates did best in the asteroid belt; the Turians did best at the relay.

When the battle was over, the Turians had lost 9,500 men and over 30 ships; the Confederates 11,000 men and 28 ships… and it hadn't changed a thing for anyone.

Admiral Thomas, the overall 7th fleet commander was himself severely wounded by a guardian laser shot directly on the bridge, and relieved of command on medical reasons.

"_The shot that struck me and the command staff down was the best ever fired for humanity. I possessed in no means the confidence of neither the Government; nor, self admittedly, the ability to wage this war. Now a person who does possess both can now replace me and succeed where I never could." –Admiral Philip Thomas_

For the first time in the war, Admiral Steven Hackett was now officially placed in charge of a major fleet; over 350 ships under his direct control. The Admiral in charge of the first contact fleet, the defender of Shanxi, the Leader of Yankee Station, and the captor of the New Athenian Rebel Jacob Featherston; he was at the start of the war, the Confederacy's most promising Officer.

He rechristened his new force the "Confederacy's Fleet," seized the initiative and never let it go.

First he sent his new Prowler corps chief, Lt. Commander Benjamin McHale into Turian territory to reconnoiter and harass Admiral Isarius' huge fleet.

McHale's wolf pack bombarded supply depots, attacked fleets six times their size then slipping away without a trace, seized badly needed dextro based supplies for their Quarian allies, took prisoners, and only slowed down to torpedo Turian Convoys and mine relays along the way.

In vain pursuit was Admiral Isarius' own father-in-law Admiral Brutvus Isarius who had stayed in the navy far past his opportunity to retire, a decision he would regret "but once" he said, "and that was continuously."

* * *

**Shanxi**

At Shanxi, General Arterius continued his cautious advance through the jungles outside of New Kyoto. Lee, dug in her trenches, was waiting for him. Arterius, convinced that his tanks and APC's could punch through the "primitives" defenses, ordered a full assault.

The tanks began their advance, a heavy rain fell through the area; lighting flashed across the sky, causing all aircraft on both sides grounded due to the weather. Thus allowing the Turian vehicles get close to the Confederate defenses.

After that, nothing went right.

First, Staff Sergeant Shepherd's platoon of Marines blasted the APCs with a storm of RPG's.

"_How beautiful it looked, the APC's were blasted to pieces from our RPGs. We watched the fireworks from our positions in the trenches. We were waist deep in mud and water, working off of three hours of sleep, our last meal had been yesterday; just generally miserable in general. _

_Yet in that moment, any discomfort and concerns we might have had disappeared in an instant."_

_-Hannah Shepherd_

Then Guardsman Colonel Adrian Toomes artillery opened fire. Having spent the last week zeroing their artillery guns, marking on their maps and tacpads the exact spot a shell would land and the time it took for it to reach the target, ensured deadly accuracy.

"_We watched with a certain bit of awe and horror as our tanks and armored vehicles we decimated in seconds. I had wished my brother had heeded my warnings regarding the Engineers and Spirits. The savages were many things, but incompetent they were not._

_Then our own defenses started taking fire, from artillery and machine gun emplacements and simple rifle fire. There was so much gunfire that it felt like I could see a blanket of slugs was flying over my head. _

_I decided to start estimating the amount of time I could hold my finger up in the air before it would get shot off; when the order to get up was given. I turned and looked at Centurion Sulrian, thinking he had suddenly become insane." –Spectre Saren Arterius_

Then Centurion Metna Sulrian, determined to take the Confederate position and ignoring Spectre Arterius' warnings, ordered his brigade to assault the enemy position supported with the few remaining APCs and tanks.

"_We were stupefied at the stupidity of the Turian commanders charge; we actually stopped firing for a moment and watched as his men advanced cover to cover. I think the Turians were also a little stunned because they stopped shooting as well, and for a few seconds the battlefield was quiet as the 4-5 thousand Turians advanced. _

_Then it was hell." –Hannah Shepherd._

The Defenders resumed their fire, pouring lead into the advancing Turians; dozens were cut down as the rounds slammed through their kinetic barriers. Many fell dead, screaming as they were burned to death from the inside out as several AI's began raining light arrows and spears down onto them.

Hundreds fell dead, hundreds more fell wounded; the rest now found themselves trapped in shell craters and behind destroyed vehicles.

"_I watched as the poor soldiers remained trapped behind the very cover that protected them. They were leaderless, as Centurion Sulrian was dead from a slug in the head from an Engineer sniper._

_There was nothing I could do but sit and watch, and hope that my brother's reinforcements could break their lines." –Saren Arterius_

Now over 2000 Turians were trapped between the lines; General Arterius misinterpreting an aides message from the lines as there being a weak spot at where the Turian brigade was trapped, sent a further 10,000 men to punch through the weak link in the lines; certain that "once the link is broken, the whole gate will come crashing down."

General Tiberinus Bellidros, upon arriving at the lines immediately saw the danger. He ordered a full scale artillery barrage on the Confederate positions while ordering his Tanks and APC's forward to retrieve the trapped Turians.

It was a daring plan, but one that was doomed from the start. Colonel Toomes, delighted to now have a perfect bead on where the Turian artillery was, ordered half of his artillery to return fire. The other half he ordered to continue pounding the Turian Armor that was now making its way across the "Killingzone." A full quarter of the Turians artillery was destroyed before Bellidros realized what was happening before he ordered his artillery to go and hide.

Half of his Armor was now destroyed, but about three quarters of the trapped Turians were able to slip back into friendly lines.

The First battle of New Kyoto was a complete and utter military disaster for the Turian suppression force.

Over five thousand Turians were killed wounded or missing, compared to only one hundred and two Humans and AI's casualties. And compared to what was coming the battle was a skirmish.

"_I think the best way to describe the majority of the Confederate-Turian War is by saying an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. The Turians were the unstoppable force and the Confederacy was the immovable object._

_Humanity had perfected fighting defensive wars throughout the 20__th__ and 21__st__ century. And the Turians hadn't ever really run into a thoroughly entrenched enemy since the Krogan Rebellions. The Turians weren't incompetent, just complacent; this was the first time anyone had ever really given them a real defensive fight. _

_Turians would charge an entrenched position, expecting the people to throw down their weapons the minute things got tough and just got blown away every time." –Robert Leaply_

* * *

**Wolfpacks**

As Hackett watched Isarius' advance through Confederacy territory, Lt. Commander McHale began starting up his and Admiral Hackett's strategy of cutting off the Turians ability to wage war.

The First six months of the war was mostly both sides gearing up their respective militaries to wage a proper war. While the Turians on the ground were stuck in their positions due to the vast networks of defenses on every base and planet; Admiral Isarius and Admiral Hackett shadowed each other's fleets, neither able to strike a crippling blow to the other.

Most of the fighting came from Lt. Commander McHale's unrestricted "Prowler Wolfpack warfare;" and his large forays into Turian space.

McHale had studied submarine warfare extensively; particularly German Admiral Karl Dönitz's unrestricted submarine warfare during the Battle of the Atlantic and he saw that cutting off a peoples supply chain, even for only one or two years, completely destroys a people's ability to wage war.

McHale assembled a Wolf pack of 26 Prowlers, and deployed them strategically all throughout the Relay network in Turian space in groups of three. He had them intercept a supply convoy, typically numbering approximately 100; often with devastating results.

"_Whenever one of my Wolfpacks caught a convoy, the Turians would typically lose 6-12 supply ships every time they came through a relay. They might lose an escort or two if the escorts were particularly angry or persistent and the Prowler would have to destroy or disable them so they could slip away._

_A Turian Supply Convoy would leave a supply depot, or even a major world, with about a hundred or so supply ships with a dozen or so escorts. _

_By the time they got to the front lines, or wherever their destination was they would have lost about 40-50 supply ships. About several months' worth of supplies scuttled and dead in space; if the ship was disabled they could still get the supplies, but oftentimes they would just pick up survivors and leave the ships behind; ripe for the taking for us." –Admiral Benjamin McHale_

The Hierarchy was mortified and angered by McHale's tactics and attacks. In just six months

Hackett promoted McHale again to Captain, making him one of the youngest officers to make the rank of Captain in Confederacy history. However McHale's Wolfpacks had the unintended side effect of bringing attention of just how big the war was to the other members of the Council.

* * *

**A/N: I take the "Ken Burns" approach to my chapters whenever I want to pass time in my story, but I want to avoid a time skip. I hate time skips in stories; I don't mind them in-between stories, and I tolerate them in an epilogue because it makes sense to do that. But 90% of the time, whenever there are time skips between chapters they tend to be out of place or you end up missing out on important information that they only allude to. **

**I don't really have much to say… um… **

**Oh! So I've decided I'm going to focus on the first contact war for this book, then do a sort of anthology covering more history of the Confederacy and events in between books; and then the next book will cover events of the first game, or… as much as an AU such as mine can do.**

**Again, I'm blown away by the amount of attention this story has been getting. I would absolutely love it if this story got a TV tropes page. I'm a total fan of the site, and the entries and tropes that people attach to books and fanfics popular enough to be put on the site often never fail to make me laugh.**

**I have to give a quick shout out to Fanfiction Authors TashaMoon, a really talented writer of one of the best Percy Jackson fics ever; and Slipspace Anomaly, if you didn't like Halo 5, go read his version of It. It is by far every bit of a sci-fi manhunt we all expected and wanted. His story is titled Halo 5: Reclamation. It was actually the first fanfic I ever read, and his is the standard I hold most of the stories I write and the stories I read on this site.**

**They are the ones that inspired me to write my own story on this site; granted my first few attempts didn't go well, but I think it's safe to say I've hit my stride.**

**Leave reviews as always; let me know what you think.**

**And I'll see ya when I see ya.**


	13. The Truth Revealed

**The Citadel**

Councilor Tevos and Councilor Jahee glared at Councilor Mellius; who was pointedly ignoring them and reading reports from his omnitool.

Tevos motioned for Jahee to start things off, so she said; "So Mellius, would you care to tell us something that you may have missed last meeting?"

The Turian councilor looked at them, his face giving away nothing even to someone as skilled as Tevos was in reading faces. "No I don't believe there is anything new to report, the police action against the rouge Quarian state is going well from what my reports say." Either he legitimately did not know what was happening all across hierarchy space, or he was a superb liar.

Neither was a comforting prospect.

Tevos kept up a neutral expression while Jahee continued to grill the Turian councilor. "Really? Explain to me then, Mellius. Explain these casualty reports coming in from all across the Turian border; about 192,000 Turian soldiers killed in the past six months, approximately 230,000 wounded. About 10,000 Turian civilians have been killed as well due to being on cruise ships and various other civilian frieghters. And what's this? I see you have taken about 11,000 prisoners of two different species from these areas, and they don't look like Quarians to me."

Mellius shifted, seeing the gig was up. "Very well, we have discovered two new species in the six months since we started fighting this rogue Quarian nation. They have been the ones mostly fighting this war, as a matter of fact we haven't seen much in terms of Quarians on the battlefield.

We call them Engineers and Spirits respectively. We can't get what they are really called from the prisoners we have taken. They are very stubborn, especially the Engineers.

The Spirits are… we don't know what they are; they are some kind of corporeal beings that glow.

The Engineers are not challenging physically, but they know that and play to their strengths. So far we have found close to 80 worlds and military installations, and there are likely more. They don't use Element Zero for their technology." He explained

"Impossible, everything runs on Element Zero!" Jahee snorted dismissively while Tevos narrowed her eyes.

"It's true! You don't believe me then look at the sensor data I'm forwarding you." He snapped.

Tevos looked at the data with growing disbelief as she scrolled through. Despite being outnumbered 3 to 1 the Engineers and Spirits had managed to stymie the Turian navy. For every battle the Turian navy won, the Engineers would launch raids into hierarchy space. And that wasn't even taking into account the ground battles, the Turians were being beaten at every turn. The Engineers and Spirits were relatively equal in terms of technology, despite following a different type, but in terms of tactics and strategy the aliens were superior. They didn't follow any one type of strategy beyond having a very fluidic defense, allow their enemies to take something with a fight, and then come back with an even larger force. Even Turian victories were more pyrrhic than anything else.

Tevos slammed her pad onto a nearby desk. The other two councilors jumped at her outburst. "You bloody fools; we are going to see these prisoners now, and you had best hope these people understand diplomacy. Because if they don't you may have declared a war we can't win."

* * *

**Unknown Planet; Engineer/Spirit Prison Camp.**

Sergeant Major Zaeed Massani sat cross legged with his eyes closed. The men and women around him all huddled together. He tried not to think about how long he had been stuck there. It was stupid really, how he had gotten captured; but he had to accept it now, all he could do was help everyone else in this godforsaken POW camp.

"Hey! Get up primitive!" The now familiar voice of their jailer barked.

Zaeed opened his eyes, seeing that the young guard had singled him out. He sighed and stood, dusting his sand camo fatigues. Most of the other prisoners stuck in the barracks were young privates and corporals with a few sergeants mixed in, all from separate branches as the aliens weren't able to differentiate. The only officers there were an Army captain, and a handful of Air Force pilots.

Airforce still had their green flight suits, Marines had the Sand Camo, Navy had a mixture of their blue-grey Camo and blue jumpsuits, and Army had either Urban Camo or Green Camo. He thought that the Turians would have been able to differentiate the groups, but perhaps they didn't care to.

They only separated the AI's from them, although everyone was careful to call the Spirits to prevent the Turians from executing everyone. It had become doctrine in the Confederacy to call AI's "Spirits." Who knew, perhaps by the end of the war that would be their new name.

Zaeed, an Air Force flight leader, and the Army Captain all stood and walked up to the guard.

With a resigned expression, Zaeed held his arms out, the others doing the same; and the guard slapped a pair of cuffs on each of them. He shoved Zaeed out, and a few other guards did the same with the other two.

They walked from the barracks to the commandant's office, and they were sat down at a table with three AI's, two men and a woman. All three were also cuffed and had trackers on their necks.

Apparently Zaeed's barracks weren't the only ones caught trying to escape.

They were sat down on opposite sides of the AI's, and had their legs cuffed to the chairs. "Make sure you behave yourselves Engineers, Spirits, you have some special guests. And they are very interested in meeting you." One of the guards said.

After they left, Zaeed started to look around keeping his expression flat. _"Español."_ One of the AI's whispered.

Zaeed now looked at the female AI in front of him, a Silver colored one. English, Chinese, and Spanish were the three main languages in the Confederacy, so it was a guarantee that someone knew at least two of the three.

"_Small hidden camera on my 10, Sergeant Major." _The female informed him.

"_Thanks, any idea who our VIP's might be?" _he asked.

"_No, just brought us in, told us the same thing as you." _The Black male on the right replied.

"Shit…" Zaeed grumped.

* * *

"They certainly don't look that threatening." Tevos noted, looking at the six beings seated and chained around the table.

"Don't let that fool you, the Spirits are able to summon weapons from thin air, and they know how to use them. The Engineers are smart, they know exactly what your strengths and weaknesses are if they watch you for too long. That's why we rotate guards constantly and randomly. One guard had a slight muscle weakness on his left leg; Engineers figured it out within a few days and nearly killed him." The Commandant informed her coolly.

"Showing natural aptitude for languages, switched between at least three different ones so far. Analytical abilities almost match that of a Salarian, Spirits show incredible fighting prowess; perhaps able to surpass Krogan." Jahee rambled off.

"You can see why we have been stalemated on the ground then." Mellius said. It was a statement not a question.

Tevos nodded, while Jahee continued to ramble. "I shall question them then, perhaps they shall see me as not a threat to them."

* * *

The six of them didn't have to wait long before their "VIP" came in. To their surprise it wasn't a Turian, it was a blue skinned human in a dress and with some kind of crest rather than hair.

"_Asari."_ The black AI whispered to them.

_Ah so this is an Asari, _Zaeed thought, remembering his briefings about the rest of the council. _The supposedly super sexy diplomats… I don't see the appeal really. _

He could see the other AI's and the two officers thought the same, from the way they narrowed their eyes and wrinkled their noses in slight disgust. He could also see all of them sizing her up, seeing the quickest and most efficient ways to kill her.

He knew because he was doing the same.

_Measured steps, trying to appear harmless but very clearly trained in combat. A veteran? Perhaps, possibly special forces the way she carries herself. All Asari are biotics, means I have to hit the pressure points; should be in similar places to humans. Slight arrogant air to her, but she's trying to hide it; like that prick Senator Udina. _He thought.

"_Do you understand me?"_ she asked.

None of them responded except to turn their heads straight and keep their expressions flat. The AI's could understand her, and all of them had learned _Kheelish_ to help integrate the Quarians into the military better.

"_Thessian? Tal'mae? Sur'Kesh? Kheelish?" _The last one got a slight reaction out of them as they shifted slightly.

The Asari smiled lightly in her tiny victory, _"Kheelish it is then. Tell me, what is the name of your species?"_ she asked.

They said nothing.

"_Why have you declared war on us? We have done nothing to you."_ She continued, not at all perturbed by their lack of response.

They continued staring straight ahead.

"_Is it because of those Quarians? Oh dear I fear they might have tricked and uplifted you; they do have a right to be angry but they are having you fight their fight."_

Their eyes hardened something that didn't escape the Asari's notice. _"Have I struck a nerve? I'm sorry if I have, I meant no offense. Do you know what they did? They unleashed a race of rogue AI's on the rest of the galaxy. That's why AI's are illegal you know." _

He could see that last bit heavily affected the AI's, as they started to glow in anger. Deciding to intervene before they did something everyone would regret, Zaeed said, _"Your mother get knocked up by a Quarian? In my experience the most diehard racists tend to be half of whatever race they hate."_

The AI's glow faded and they tried to keep their faces straight, the officers doing the same as the Asari's eyes narrowed; her face tinted a little darker blue now.

"_So you do understand me… good, now please answer my questions."_ She growled.

Deciding to explain his people rules with POW's, he said; _"Under the_ _Geneva Convention of 1949 we are only obligated to give you our Name, Rank and Serial Number. Zaeed Massani, Sergeant Major United Confederate Marine Corps, Serial Number EM-13919977."_

"_John Chief, 1st lieutenant United Confederate Air Force, Serial Number OAF-10087117."_ The Pilot said.

"_Robert Wisner, Captain United Confederate Army, Serial Number OA-34570441" _The Captain said.

"_Helios Onassis, Sergeant United Confederate Army, Serial Number EA-AI20412637"_ Gold said.

"_Chiron Andris, Corporeal United Confederate Army, Serial Number EA-AI38745211" _Black said.

"_Larissa Zacharias, Petty Officer 2__nd__ Class United Confederate Navy, Serial Number EN-AI35962315" _The Female AI said, finishing the conversation_._

The Asari tried to restart the conversation, asking them multiple questions; but they were done talking, and just repeated the process every time she asked a question. After a very short while it became clear to them that she was getting very frustrated by the lack of progress.

Finally she said, _"ENOUGH! Enough with this Name, Rank, and Serial Number; now then, one last question, if you answer it I will leave. Deal?"_ she took the lack of response as a "yes" and continued on saying, _"What is the name of your species?"_

They all looked at each and decided that they wouldn't give her the satisfaction. She was clearly done with the questions and was going to leave regardless. _"We are what you say we are. Zaeed Massani, Sergeant Major…"_

She stormed out in a huff as Zaeed continued their now well-rehearsed spiel.

* * *

"Don't feel bad Councilor, you have made more progress in the past hour than we have these past six months." The Commandant told her, the other Councilors still scribbling notes.

"Hmph, You were right when you said the Engineers are stubborn, you could have told me the Spirits are just as bad. Still at least we know what their government is called. _United Confederacy_…" she said, trying the word.

"Indicates their government is a Confederacy, obviously; likely divided between the Engineers and the Spirits. Mostly keep to themselves except for military affairs. That means this is likely a military alliance then, not a political one. Perhaps we can sow discord between the two species. Force them to negotiate." Jahee said, talking so fast Tevos could barely keep up with the Dalatress.

"That won't work, you haven't seen them on the battlefield, but they complement each other incredibly well. The Engineers have poor hand to hand abilities, and the Spirits have poor long range capabilities. They fight with a teamwork I have never seen." The Commandant informed them.

Mellius, who had remained silent up to that point, stood and went to leave. "Now you see our problem Tevos, they are too stubborn and warlike to even think about negotiating a truce. We need to combine our forces and crush them. They are still outnumbered, we can win but we must change our tactics." Mellius said coldly.

Tevos and Jahee looked at each other, "No, we will remain neutral and try to negotiate peace with them. I will start sending diplomatic parties into their space, perhaps they can be reasoned with."

* * *

**The Volkeshalle, Warsaw; Earth**

"How can I hold that this so called "Council" will honor any deal we set forward? They are a pseudo dictatorship I say! One that doesn't even deserve to be crushed underfoot because they are so flat and spineless that they will bend over backwards for their "clients." The Batarian Hegemony for one! They still practice slavery, and they people are subjugated like North Korea in the 21st century. Do we want to deal with these fascists?!" Federalist Minority whip Senator Telephus Stevens roared.

"HELL NO!" a portion of the crowd screamed.

Singh leaned back in his chair, watching the Senate proceedings. The two houses alternated control of the floor, one would conduct their business and hold debates one day, then clear out and let the other move in the next. Once a month both houses would meet; or on special occasions. Today the Senate had the floor; the delegates were all in their offices or were in the audience.

Singh was used to rants like this from Stevens, but the crowd joining him? That was a new one on him. Singh checked the time, _5:51 PM;_ he could go home soon thankfully. He wasn't sure why he stayed as Prime Minister when all it did was cause him to lose his hair and give him peptic ulcers.

_Because Grant asked you too._ A tiny voice in his head reminded him. He cursed that voice because it was right. A quiet buzz from his podium caused him to look at his iPad. _Speak of the Devil. _

_**From President Grant:** Good News, Commander McHale's Wolfpacks found the citadel, he plans on parking them in the nebula and destroying Turian transports as they come in. Need Senate approval for an escalation like this, think you can squeeze it in? I can wait till Thursday when the Senate is back in if you can't._

Singh thought about it long and hard. On one hand this would likely extend the time they spent in the damned chamber, and he really wanted to go home and have some good curry. But on the other he _**really **_did not want to deal with it on Thursday. Mostly because if he did it now, the other Senators probably wanted to go home too and wouldn't feel like debating it; whereas if he waited, they would be fresh and ready to go and slug it out over whether or not to approve the escalation.

So far McHale and his Wolfpacks had kept to Turian space, and avoided civilian ships like the Black Death. If he went to the Citadel, he would be essentially enacting the equivalent unrestricted submarine warfare in the heart of Council space.

_I want to go home, but I don't want them to stew on this. Dammit; Shiva help me._ He grabbed his iPad and rapidly pounded his response.

_**From Prime Minister Singh:** I hate you, but I'll do it today. Vesta is cooking me a nice dinner next time I'm at the White House. She's New Athenian, so she can could some good food, unlike that burnt cowboy crap your chefs make. _

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter; and sorry for its short length.**

**I saw John Wick 3 and holy shit it is good. So funny story about John Wick, my mom owned a Dodge Grand Caravan, and it was a piece of shit. Once a month my dad and I would have to pull the damned thing apart because something broke.**

**We went through 4 transmissions on it, had to change the tires about 3 times, brakes had to be changed like twice a month, it would constantly stall randomly forcing us to throw it in neutral and restart it ON THE HIGHWAY!**

**God, it was a hell car. **

**Well we put it up for sale, and my dad was filling out the paperwork; while he was doing that, we were watching John Wick 2 and we were at the "excommunicado" scene. Well my dad finished the paperwork and posted it, and I said "Moms car is now excommunicado, with a $900 bounty on its head. I'd say the odds are about even that someone collects it." Perfect timing let me tell you; I thought my dad was gonna pass out.**

**Also if you were annoyed by the whole Name, Rank, and Serial Number spiel; that was intentional. I wanted to show you just a taste of how annoying it is; imagine your Tevos, and every question you asked was met by all 6 of them doing that little spiel every time.**

**I see this fic as a direct response to those fics that either have dictatorships as humanities central government; or in one particular fics case, (I can't remember the name and I can't find it again,) essentially have all the nations of earth forced to join the systems alliance at gunpoint.**

**And that fic treated it as a GOOD thing, even justifying it saying "20% of Americans want a military dictatorship." And have the US and China try to form an alliance, and both end up being wiped out. **

**Ugh… as a rule I am very leery about having a central government be mandatory to join. (Before you type it, all the states in the union are free to leave, they just don't want too.)**

**If you think I am making the Turians weak in this fic, I'm not. Their complacent, that causes stagnation in a military. (It's happening now with the US.) I'm treating the Turians like the Union in the US civil war. VERY rocky start, but they adapt eventually; but in this case they might adapt a little too late.**

**Leave a Review as always, I welcome a TV tropes page (I really want one as a matter of fact.)**

**And I'll see ya when I see ya.**


	14. Wolfpack Tactics

**UCNS Nyx's Chariot; The Citadel**

"Tracking sierra 78 and 79 respectively; one registers as a destroyer, the other is a cargo ship." Nox reported, her dark purple glow brightening with excitement.

"I'm tracking 1,700 warships, and approximately… huh, my sensors must be broken because I'm reading close to 30,000 civilian ships of varying sizes." Sensors reported.

McHale nodded, "What's the word on the rest of the wolfpack?" he asked.

"_Helios _and the _Selene _are holding position inside the nebula. _Athena's Wisdom_ and _Zeus' Bolt _are closer to the station, but are still keeping a healthy distance from it. We are currently .01 light minutes away from the Citadel, with _Artemis' Hunt_ about .004 light minutes away from us." Sensors replied.

McHale nodded satisfied, six prowlers in one place was actually pretty dangerous; he had a tough time convincing Admirals Hackett and Gerrel to dedicate the resources to this. Since they were technically attacking Turians in a neutral zone, they needed to go to the senate to get authorization for an escalation like that.

They approved it, more out of apathy than anything else.

"Nox, what's the status on the 'milk cow' bringing in our food?" McHale asked.

"Two days sir, they'll jump in system tomorrow, but they will have to approach at sub light sir." She replied.

McHale grunted, then stood and went to the galley to grab some coffee. He hated coffee, preferring caffeinated soft drinks like Pepsi. But that was a luxury prowlers weren't given, only capital ships like fleet carriers, battleships or troop assault carriers got that kind of stuff.

The resupply prowler, which was a little bigger than a regular prowler, was slower and only had two torpedo tubes and a few AA guns; In comparison the _Nyx _had six torpedo tubes, eighteen torpedoes in total, two pulse laser turrets, two 5 inch guns, and sixteen AA emplacements. Better armed than a DE, but not as well armed as a destroyer.

The _Nyx_ and all her fellow prowlers had one huge advantage, stealth. They could slip into a system undetected; torpedo several warships or supply ships, then slip away with no one ever knowing what had hit them.

They were like the U-boats of old.

McHale had to hand it to the Germans; next to his fellow Americans, they had revolutionized warfare. He had actually studied the wolf pack tactics used by Admiral Karl Dönitz during WW2, which had nearly brought the allies to their knees. Apparently the Council never had an equivalent tactic ever used against them, which really did explained McHale and Admiral Gerrels huge success against them so far.

Of course the minute they developed working countermeasures against Prowlers, these proud cloak and dagger ships of war would become metal coffins. The same fate had befallen their U-boat predecessors.

"Contact, convoy moving into the system; I'm reading approximately 12 warships and 37 cargo ships. Holy hell they have dreadnaught guarding it. Hmm… only 16 of the cargo ships register as Turian, all the rest are Asari and Salarian." Sensors called out.

"What's the call skipper?" Nox asked.

McHale mulled it over, "Call the other six prowlers to our position, U-boat spread. Target only the Turian Cargo ships. We can't risk alienating the other council races." He ordered

* * *

It took ten minutes for all the Prowlers to get into position, and another five for the convoy to get into effective range.

McHale had each prowler target three ships of their choosing. He targeted only one of the Turian cargo ships; he targeted the dreadnaught and the lead heavy cruiser. He waited another minute, and then gave the order to fire.

The six prowlers stagger fired their torpedoes one pair every two minutes, hurling the torpedoes into space at a speed of 60 light knots.

Unbeknownst to the six prowlers, there were other species than Turians in that convoy riding on the Turian ships.

Onboard the Turian dreadnaught _HWS Vengeance_ the crews are relaxed and confident. They think that the human fleets that had been raiding their space wouldn't dare try to attack the hierarchy in clear view of the rest of the galaxy.

The first torpedo struck the lead heavy cruiser _Black Hand_'s bridge, then striking its main engine room. The vessel was obliterated; but it gave warning to the rest of the ships that a wolf pack had found them.

Up until recently, the main strategy for dealing with getting caught in a wolf pack was simply to run as fast as they could to the nearest relay and scatter, leaving behind their destroyed comrades. Rescue would come to them later once the wolf pack had looted their ships and moved on. Now they had nowhere to run, and had no choice but to try and defend themselves from the storm of torpedoes they were sure were coming.

Sure enough, amid the swarm of point defense laser fire, three of the cargo ships were practically vaporized while the other two were completely disabled; left to drift towards the citadel.

* * *

"Good hits on all targets skipper." Nox said, glowing with pleasure.

McHale leaned back and rubbed the stubble growing on his face. He looked at his mechanically wound pocket watch; as a rule, all confederacy equipment had mechanical backups. After a solar storm had caused several vessels to be lost with all hands because they had no backups beyond electrical ones in the 2140's, anything that could be done mechanically had that as a backup.

Just in case…

His pocket watch was one of those examples. Every prowler captain was issued one, as a sort of… acknowledgement of their heritage. Of all the attack submarines and U-boats that had paved the way for them in the testing grounds of earth's oceans.

Two minutes ticked by…

"Fire the next set."

* * *

The next swarm of torpedoes swam toward their targets. By this point, the Citadel Fleet had realized something was wrong and had begun moving to assist the Turian/Asari convoy. Many journalists took their ships out to see if they could get a scoop of the action.

Perhaps there had been an accident. Pirates perhaps?

By the time the fleet of warships and civilians arrived to the stricken convoy, the second wave had reached their targets. This time, all twelve of the explosions fell against six of the freighters; most carrying food for the dextro based species on the citadel.

Misfortune struck as one of the news agency owned vessels had moved a little too close to the freighters and the lightly shielded vessel was caught in the explosion. The small ship, unnoticed by the prowlers, spun out of control and crashed into the _Vengeance._ The Turians were forced to stop their evasive maneuvers and rapidly picked up the wrecked vessel.

It took one minute to get the wreck into the hanger bay. It took another for the news crew to rush onto the bridge.

* * *

Two minutes passed…

"Fire the last wave, order the others two run to the predetermined rendezvous point. Pass the word along to the resupply prowler." He instructed.

"Aye Aye skipper. We staying to watch the last wave?" Nox asked.

He nodded, "Yes, we have to see the damage done to them before we can leave."

* * *

The last five Turian freighters were all destroyed one by one by the final swarm of torpedoes. The point defense did manage to destroy three of the oncoming torpedoes, but only one was really needed to destroy the lightly armored and lightly shielded cargo ships.

The journalists and other ships watched in silent disbelief as the ships went up in flames, unable to believe that an unseen enemy could inflict such serious damage.

Onboard the _Vengeance,_ the news crew watched in horror at the destruction being wrought upon the civilian ships.

The Asari reporter on the bridge turned to the captain; both unaware that everything was being streamed live to the citadel. "Captain, what is happening here? Who is attacking these civilian freighters?" she demanded from him.

Flustered, the captain replied honestly; "Alien stealth ships; their torpedoing our shipping lanes, trying to stop us from supplying our colonies."

"Why would-" she tried to say.

"TORPEDOES!" the Turian manning the sensor array screamed.

The captain shoved the reporter out of the way; "Target them! All the lasers! Fire everything!" he roared.

* * *

The first torpedo's shields failed mere feet from the ships shielding. But the explosion still rocked the ship from stem to stern, shrapnel racking the armor belt like a shot gun blast.

"_One torpedo detonated prematurely, but the concussive force from the explosion threw everyone off their feet. And the jolt triggered an emergency shutoff switch in the engines. Engineering got it back online, and I had to quickly get back to my station and resume evasive maneuvers." –Helmsman Tullus Caladas, TWS Vengeance_

The torpedo having been mostly stopped by the shields still did its damage. The shields were now compromised, and the engines flickered and died for only a few seconds; not long, but more than enough time to seal the dreadnaughts fate.

* * *

The news crew forced themselves up, the cameraman stuggling to keep themselves steady as everything was in a frenzy. "Goddess what was that? A nuke?" She asked.

"Standard Engineer torpedo, non-nuclear; everyone brace! The other ones coming!" The captain screamed.

* * *

Twenty one seconds after the first torpedo detonated, the second caught up with the stricken dreadnaught. The deadly missile stuck the dreadnaught on her port side on her stern. The violent explosion tore a huge hole in the hull.

"_The shock from the blast was so strong that rivets flew off the bulkhead and ricocheted around the cabin like human bullets striking armor. Several crewmen fell dead from the projectiles burying themselves in the unfortunate men's heads. And there was a sound like the ship was being ripped apart."_ _–Helmsman Caladas_

The _Vengeance'_s port engines were ripped off from the force of the explosion, and the ship continued on in a continuous port turn from the starboard engines still running.

"_The reporter and her team had somehow survived unscathed, probably due to the Asari's biotics. I had two rivets bury themselves in my right arm, but I stayed at my post. When I saw that dammed camera still running I knew…_

_That among the red emergency running lights, all the sparks coming from the destroyed electronics, and the screams and cries of the wounded; there was no hiding this war anymore. _

_And there was no hiding that we were losing."_ _–Helmsman Caladas_

Aboard the _Nyx,_ McHale watched the proceedings with a grim expression. He checked his pocket watch again, and then gave a nod to Nox. As she gave the orders to the crew, he thought about how just six months ago he and his PT crew were the bane of Captain Carpenter's existence. Endless pranks and shenanigans that they always managed to get away with.

Now he was waging war on aliens and torpedoing civilian cargo ships and freighters.

_I'm in my early 20's dammit; I'm too young to be reminiscing like this. When I'm 120 maybe I'll consider it. _He mentally chided himself.

Looking at the burning wreckage, he hoped that the Turians were now getting the message.

"You punch us in the head; we'll punch you below the belt."

It was how all humans fought, and the Turians were learning that. He certainly hoped that he hadn't gone too far this time. For all he knew there were Asari and Salarians on those ships and he had brought in another two species into the war.

_Okay me, less depressing thoughts now._ He ordered himself.

"Hey Nox, have we got any of that Peach-Strawberry moonshine onboard?" he asked.

* * *

**Unknown Planet; Engineer/Spirit Prison Camp.**

Tevos drank her tea as Mellius and Jahee scrolled through more reports coming in from the front. More bad news from Shanxi, Admiral Isarius' fleet had been driven off; allowing reinforcements to be delivered to the Engineers, while they rotated out their more battle weary divisions.

At a random engineers farm, the first real land engagement had finally ended. A weeks' worth of fighting as the Turians attempted to take the entrenched Engineers position. They had nearly done it, but then several platoons of spirits had arrived and killed hundreds of Turians. They had been forced into a full retreat from the field.

The results were why she was essentially binge drinking her tea. If she didn't she might have been sick from the numbers.

The Engineers and Spirits casualties were essentially unknown, but they hazarded a guess of around twelve to sixteen thousand dead and wounded from the six days of battle at what was now being called "Spirit Farm". The Turians had over twelve thousand dead, and twenty thousand wounded.

"I am seriously contemplating forcing a meld on them at this point. We need be able to communicate with them, sue for peace, and bring them into the council. This war has only been going one for a little more than six months at this point, and we have already lost more than the past ten years of policing our space for pirates and mercenaries." Tevos growled.

Jahee gave a noncommittal hum while Mellius' pad pinged with a new message. He scrolled to the new message, and then dropped the pad; his mannibals flaring and his frills drooping.

"Mellius?" Tevos asked, setting aside her teacup in concern.

He said nothing as he stood and left the room.

Tevos reached down and read the message, trying not to break the pad in rage.

"_Alert! Wolf pack caught a convoy in full view of the citadel. A journalist and camera crew was onboard the lead dreadnaught when they struck, caught everything live. The attack is being replayed all across council space. _

_16 Turian Supply Ships destroyed, 1 Heavy Cruiser destroyed, the Dreadnaught _Vengeance _is disabled. Over 4,000 dead and wounded; 50 of them were Asari when the _Vengeance_ crashed into another supply ship when it was sent out of control. _

_Requesting instructions… what do we do now?"_

**A/N: sorry for the really short chapter and the delay guys and gals. I was working on another idea that kind of fell flat on its face and ate into the time for this story. **

**You may be thinking that since its Memorial Day weekend I would have had more time to work on this story. Normally you would be right but I went on a little bit of a mini pilgrimage of sorts.**

**See you would think Maryland would be a terrible place for that kind of thing (Peoples Republic of Maryland and all that.) **

**But the oldest Roman Catholic Parish in North America, St Ignatius Catholic Church, is in Port Tobacco, Maryland. It's fitting I suppose, one of the most significant religious places on the continent isn't some big flashy cathedral, it's just some small church in a sea of farms and forests. **

**You know guys and gals, it's not often that I feel humbled; but I walked into that church, it was empty with not a soul around, and I felt like I was standing in God's presence. It was… reassuring, I think is the correct term.**

**Hm…**

**Well, leave a review as always; PM me if you have any questions you wish to ask privately Ladies and Gents. Still waiting on that TV Tropes page (if you want to know what that is just look up a TV show or book or even a fanfic and its TV tropes page. That's what I'm talking about.) Really want one there Ladies and Gents.**

**See ya when I see ya.**

**EDIT: Also if you wish to draw any fan art please contact me; I would be honored if you did so.**


	15. Escalation

**The Citadel**

Tevos tried to ignore the flashes of cameras and the dozens of news agencies that crowded the council chamber. If she was blind that might have been possible. As it was she was sure she would be driven blind by the end of the day if she continued watching the flashing cameras.

"There will be order in this chamber!" Jahee roared. It took a few minutes, but the agitated crowd of diplomats, businessmen, politicians, journalists and guests finally quieted down enough for Tevos to hear her own thoughts.

"Thank you; please keep your questions until after this meeting is over." Mellius said.

Tevos bit back a smile at Mellius' order; it would be one of his last as councilor. After the conference, he would be very publicly removed from office and replaced. To her own and too many Asari living memory, no councilor had been publicly removed in the manner she and Jahee intended to remove Mellius. All unruly or undesirable councilors publicly "resigned," once it became clear they would not clean up their conduct.

"Councilors, who were the people that attacked the supply convoy? Who are these 'engineers'?" One journalist shouted, ignoring Mellius.

"Peace sister, all will be explained." Tevos assured the journalist, whom she could see was an Asari.

Tevos took a breath, then looked out at the assembled crowd; and then changed the course of history. "It is with the deepest of regrets that I must inform all the races of the citadel that we have discovered a new species. However up until recently we knew next to nothing about them. Thanks to an Asari mind melding with a captured 'engineer', we know far more about them." She said.

She also omitted the fact that she was the one who did it; and she was very ashamed that she had been forced to force a meld with that prisoner, Massani if she remembered correctly. And unfortunately, she was only able to glean minimal information on their foe; to everyone's surprise he was able to fend her off after a few seconds.

"The 'engineers' call themselves humans, and they made first contact with the Quarian migrant fleet about 7 months ago. About a week after making contact with the Quarians, who had opened a new relay in hopes of leaving council space permanently; a Turian patrol fleet under the command of Admiral Pompepilia Isarius had discovered where the Quarians had gone.

Upon emerging from the relay, General Desolas Arterius; overriding Admiral Isarius' orders, opened fire on a Quarian patrol in full view of a human fleet. Despite being outnumbered, the human fleet retaliated immediately; and inflicted serious damage to Admiral Isarius' fleet before they were forced to retreat.

They are part of a two species government known as the 'United Confederacy;' beyond speculation we know next to nothing about it. The other species that makes up this confederacy is a race known as the 'Spirits.' We know nothing about them except that they and humanity are very close.

They have declared war on the Turian Hierarchy; and as far as we can tell from the information gleaned from Confederate prisoners, the confederacy is gearing up for full scale war against the Turian hierarchy. They have already enacted what they call 'unrestricted prowler warfare,' which you all witnessed just a few days ago during the attack on the Turian supply convoy.

Beyond that we know nothing, for all we know we are dealing with a military dictatorship."

Tevos took a breath,

"The Asari Republics is preparing a diplomatic mission to one of the few know Confederacy worlds that are uncontested. We can only hope that they are open to diplomatic relations; and that they have no interest in escalating this war."

* * *

**The White House; Washington D.C**

"You want to invade Palaven…" Admiral 'Raan said, the bafflement clear on his face; even through his mask.

"Yes, it's the perfect time to strike. The past eight months have been us falling back repeatedly. Not Counting Admiral 'Gerrels and Captain McHales forays into Hierarchy space." Grant replied.

It was just him, Admiral 'Raan, Admiral Hackett, and General Lee at the moment. He had promoted Lee to General, and placed her in charge of all ground defenses in Confederacy space. A Prowler had smuggled her back to earth, and Lee had taken Sergeant Major Shepherd and her platoon with her.

"The Turians are fighting a multi-front war right now. We are only fighting one realistically. All we have to do is hold our lines, McHale's wolfpacks are doing very serious damage but he's limited by the amount of ships he has and the amount of shipping that passes by his wolfpacks. As it stands his and Gerrels main job is to force the Turians to divert ships and supplies to defend their convoys.

On top of fighting us and having to deal with McHale's wolfpacks by escorting convoys; they have to protect supply stations and troop concentrations in hierarchy space from Admiral Gerrels strike force; and they have to patrol the border with the terminus system, and patrol council space for pirates, and they have to patrol their borders with the Batarian hegemony.

They have stretched themselves too thin.

On top of that we now have two new fleet carriers thanks to you giving us your liveships, six new escort carriers, and three troop assault carriers all ready and raring to go. We've had a few prowlers watching Palaven and its very lightly defended at the moment only a few hundred ships are still and system, and if my reports are correct, a quarter of them are all damaged and under repair." Grant explained.

Beto nodded slowly; silently amazed the human could talk that much without having to take a breath. It reminded him of a Salarian doctor he once met. "I'm sensing a catch here however." Beto replied.

Grant sighed while Hackett took over, "Your right unfortunately. The Confederacy's industry is booming, given another half a year I think we would very easily start to out produce the entire council races combined industry. But we don't have that kind of time; the IAA is estimating we have maybe a few more months until the Turians find earth.

We don't have the numbers at the moment to stop their advance dead. Once they reach earth, it will become a very bloody drawn out slugfest.

We just need to stop their advance for only half a year; we do that, and our industry will finally start producing the ships, guns, and other equipment we need to start pushing them back." He explained.

Before he had toured earth and many of the Confederacy's more developed colonies, Beto would have assumed that they were exaggerating regarding their industrial capacity. Now… he was certain that they could out produce the Turians and the Asari combined.

The problem was that vast majority of their industry was either civilian owned, or was controlled by one of the nation-states. Only about 9% of the Confederacy's industry was owned by the central government.

The Triumvirates main headache had been convincing those businesses and nations to suspend making whatever it was they were working on before the war started and have them switch to war implements. But they had managed to do it; and now toy factories, can makers, car builders you name it, were all being repurposed for war. But it would take time; time that they didn't have to spare.

Beto leaned back in his chair, wishing he could take his mask off and rub his eyes; a small habit he had picked up from Grant. He already knew what they wanted; "I'll see if I can convince the new Provisional government to hand over the majority of the old migrant fleet. But I can't guarantee anything." He said.

They all nodded, "That's all I ask Beto, how are you liking republicanism by the way?" Grant asked, a smirk crossing his face.

Beto groaned and set his head on the desk.

* * *

**Baltimore; Maryland**

"How do you like Baltimore Rael?" Hannah asked her friend as they walked out of the port.

"It's incredible! These buildings are hundreds of years old, yet you still use them even today!" He exclaimed in amazement. They were both on leave at the moment, and they still had a full week left before they had to go back to their postings.

They were on their way to meet with their families so the Shepherds could give the Zorah's their own little personal tour of their home city. Many Quarians were now going on their pilgrimages on Confederate worlds, but Earth was the most popular by far. And according to Rael, there was a population boom in Quarian space. Most were having as many children as possible to boost their population.

Hannah gave a sad look around the city. The inner harbor and the industrial section were hundreds of years old yes; some of the buildings dated back to the industrial revolution. But the vast majority of the buildings in the old city were only 180 or so years old. All the rest of the old city had been bombed to dust during the 2nd American Civil war.

"So where are we meeting our families?" He asked.

Hannah smiled, he sounded almost like a school boy with how eager her sounded. "We're going to the inner harbor; at one of the new multiracial restaurants that have opened up recently."

Rael gave a nod, and they both started quick walking to the harbor.

He would eagerly ask questions about the buildings they passed and she would give him detailed answers, it made for a good way to pass the time.

When they reached the harbor, they looked out at old fort McHenry. The sight of the American, British, Confederacy, and Maryland flags all grouped together on flagpoles comforted her somewhat. Rael turned to her, no doubt to ask her about the meaning behind the flags and the history of the fort.

"MAMMA!" a very familiar voice screamed.

Hannah turned and knelt as two figures rushed forward and hugged her. John and Jane Shepherd, four years old were now, if only temporarily, reunited with their mother. She was only dimly aware of her husband walking up behind them. She looked up and the smile on his face said it all.

Rael for his part was stunned to see his daughter in a mini environment suit; normally she would have had to wait until she was around seven or eight before she would get one. But he wasn't about to 'look a gift horse in the mouth' as Hannah like to say. Kleeah was hugging the both of them, enjoying their reunion.

After a minute, they separated and Rael said, "I missed you." Was all he could manage to say.

She put the palm of her hand under the chin of his mask, "I missed you too."

Rael turned to Hannah and did a double take. Hannah, her husband, and her son were human; but their daughter was an AI, and in her husband's hands was an infant AI.

Hannah seemed to see what he was looking at and stood and turned to look at him. Deciding to preemptively answer his inevitable question, she smiled and said, "Rael, I'd like you to meet John and Jane Shepherd, my son and daughter. My husband, Adrian Shepherd VIII, and in his hands is Adrian Shepherd IX."

* * *

"So…" Rael began, while the children played in the kid's area; under the close supervision of Kleeah, who was making sure they behaved themselves.

"So you're wondering why Jane and Adrian are AI's, and why they aren't aging rapidly like they are supposed to." She said for him.

Rael nodded.

Adrian shifted uncomfortably, and said "Well I suppose we should start with the original Jane Shepherd. You see, the original Jane was human but she was still born. Normally babies are not eligible for becoming AI's because most people agree that it isn't…

Moral for lack of a better term.

Well we didn't want to take no for an answer, and a group came to us with an offer. They would make Jane into an AI, but she would age like a normal human. It took some convincing on their part; but we went through with it. I'm glad we did because Jane is a little angel that I wouldn't trade anything for. We love her so much; the company's only condition for helping us was that we would give them constant updates on how she developed as a child all the way up to adulthood."

He paused for breath, so Hannah took over.

"I guess they were satisfied with how she's turning out so far because they asked us to flash clone our brains in order to make another AI. That's where Adrian came from; I suppose they wanted to see if their method of slowing down infant AI aging works."

Rael nodded in understanding, the number of Quarians children that had been still born due to some virus that got into their immune systems despite the sterile environments. If they had been given a second chance to save their child, Rael had no doubts that they would take it. As for slowing down the AI's aging, he supposed it was a desire to make them even more human like.

"Speaking of which, do you know how many companies are working on a cure for your faulty immune systems?" Adrian asked.

Rael resisted the urge to snort in despair. "For all the good it will do, people have worked on a way to solve it for centuries. I doubt you will make any more progress than everyone else has; no offense intended." He replied.

Hannah chuckled, "Don't sell us out just yet my friend; we progressed down a different technology tree than you did Rael. Granted I don't expect them to find a cure overnight, but I wouldn't dismiss their attempts either."

Rael nodded, still not convinced. "Say, what was the name of that company that created Jane and Adrian? Maybe they could take a crack at it." he asked.

Hannah and Adrian had to think about it for a few minutes; the last time they had been in contact with the mysterious company had been a year ago when Adrian had been born.

Then the name came to Hannah, "Cerberus. Their name was Cerberus."

**A/N: I have nothing to say except sorry for the short chapter and the wait. And I feel obligated to say this.**

**75 years ago today, thousands of men stormed the beaches of Normandy so that their children could live their lives free of fear, free of tyranny. If not for their courageous efforts, Judaism would almost certainly be extinct, the Soviet Union would have been conquered, and the war would have dragged on for years more. Rather than the 300,000 or so Americans that died in Europe, it likely would have been millions; not even counting the pacific theatre. **

**Here we stand for all heroes. **

**May the greatest generation live on in our memories as the people that saved mankind. As the greatest generation dies away, we must ask ourselves "How will we honor them?" We honor them by living our lives, praying to God to accept their souls into heaven, that they may see their comrades and their worthy opponents in Valhalla. **

**We honor them by thanking them every day for the sacrifices they made so that we could be free. And most of all, we honor them by ensuring that their sacrifices were not in vain. Freedom is always one generation away from being destroyed. **

**Before I go I ask you, are we going to be the generation that lets freedom die? Will you fight to protect Freedom like our Grandparents and Great Grandparents did?**

**...**

**Anyone interested in doing fanart go ahead and PM me. Same to those with Questions for me.**

**See ya when I see ya. **

**And God bless our Veterans and the Greatest Generation.**


	16. An Offer

**November, 2232**

**UCNS Antietam; Palaven Invasion Fleet**

"OF COURSE I KNOW THIS CONVERSATION'S BEING RECORDED! I DON'T CARE THAT I'M TECHNICALLY INSUBORDINATE! I WANT THEM TO HEAR IT ALL!" Vice Admiral Hackett screamed at the top of his lungs into the phone, wisely having decided to not do the call over a holographic conference. Although he was somewhat regretting his decision at the moment, because his current contacts couldn't see just how angry he was.

Outside of Hackett's quarters, Vice Admiral Han'Gerrel, Lt. Senior Grade Rael'Zorah, Brevet Captain Benjamin McHale and Lt. General Oliver Williams all waited in a semicircle around the entrance.

McHale was reading reports from Nox about the status of his wolfpacks, which were being resupplied. Han and Rael quietly conversed over the new "fleet carriers" being deployed to the newly restructured invasion fleet; while aircraft carriers had proven to be the deciding factor in many navel battles so far they both still had doubts, especially against an entrenched fleet.

Williams was pacing back and forth, looking towards the door from time to time.

"_Do you understand what we've been doing so far?! Don't those politicians understand the insanity of this idea?!"_

They looked at the door, and then each other; a silent agreement passed that no one would bother Hackett until he was done with his call.

"_I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!"_ Hackett screamed, causing Rael to jump slightly.

Inside Hackett's office, the native Argentinians face was red with anger now. "You fucking tell them! TELL GRANT! THIS IS FUCKING LUNACY!"

He began to smash the receiver against his oak desk, "YOU!" _SMASH!_

"FUCKING!"_ SMASH!_

"TELL THEM!" _SMASH!_

The line went dead, so Hackett grabbed the receiver and threw it against the bulkhead, then proceeded to stomp on it.

The gathered officers winced at the sounds of things being smashed, and McHale wordlessly requisitioned for a new phone. He mentally sighed because most people used holo-conferences these days; but some people still used old phones, mostly because they were easier to encrypt.

The problem was that since there was such low demand, they were really expensive now.

The door opened, and Hackett walked out, dragging the crumpled remains of the encrypted desk phone out with him. He gave a lackluster toss and the destroyed phone hit the deck with a clatter. "I'm assuming our appeal was denied." McHale said with a bored expression, eyes still on his tacpad.

Hackett gave him a sideways look, "According to our top military leaders, the Triumvirate, and the Quarian Provisional Government; 'this is our only option to prolonging this war in such a way as to be favorable for the war effort and to allow our economy to properly catch up to our current enemies and potential enemies.' They essentially blew me off with the same politically charged bullshit they gave congress." He ground out.

"Then we must carry this out to the best of our ability." Gerrel replied.

General Williams sighed unhappily; he had no more confidence than the rest of them did, but they had no choice. "I'll start planning strategic and tactical possibilities for our ground forces. Just get me to that planet and keep me supplied, and I can take it."

McHale shrugged, "So long as my Prowlers are kept resupplied, I'll destroy any reinforcements that try to get to Palaven. I've heard that they are designing a new ship class that's supposed to be a mixture of PT boats and Prowlers."

Hackett nodded, rubbing his jaw; "Yeah, their being called U-Boats funnily enough; if there's one thing you can accuse us of, its being unoriginal with ship classes and names."

McHale gave a small smile, "They will function like PT Boats and Destroyer Escorts then? Cheap knock offs that function like the real thing but are inferior in most ways?"

Hackett nodded again, "Pretty much Captain; get to the _Nyx's Chariot,_ brief your wolfpacks and get ready for departure." He Ordered.

McHale saluted, which Hackett returned, and the young Brevet Captain strode away towards the hanger bay.

Hackett sighed again, then turned towards a young petty officer walking towards them and he said, "Petty Officer." The man stopped and came to attention. "We need a new phone, and uh… please dispose of the old one." He ordered.

* * *

**The Reichstag; Berlin, Earth**

"I take it Hackett didn't like his orders?" Grant's hologram asked the joint chiefs.

Ayelet didn't even look up from the papers in front of her, only half paying attention to the conversation she was a part of. The Chancellorship during wartime was largely relegated to internal affairs. Military matters were something that the Presidency took care of for the most part.

"That's… one way of putting it. He screamed at me for several minutes about how insane the plan is, and then smashed his encrypted phone when I told him that he would proceed regardless." Fleet Admiral Adam Eduardovych Bilyk informed them. The Reach native had a somewhat uncertain expression on his face. "Before he lost his cool, he did bring up some good points. Namely that if this fails then we've lost half our carriers and a large chunk of our reserves for no gain. Sir."

That caught Ayelets attention, and she looked up from her papers. "Grant, is this worth it? We lose a good portion of our strategic reserve if this doesn't work." She asked.

"Of course it's worth it; the Metal heads will be forced on the defensive; even if it's only temporary." George exclaimed.

Ayelet glared at him, "Are you the president?"

The AI withered slightly, "No Chancellor…"

"Then why are you answering?" she snapped. She turned to Grant and glared at him.

Grant looked at George, and then said; "Of course it's worth it; the Turians will be forced on the defensive; even if it's only temporarily"

Ayelet shook her head and looked down. "If this costs us the war John, and we get rounded up and killed as political dissidents; I will personally ask Yahweh to not admit you to Heaven." She growled.

Grant raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Relax, we planned for every possibility. If the fleet gets wiped out then we stop with the elastic defense and hit and run tactics we've been using and give them a hard defense. That will give them pause at the very least." He said

"Grant this is like Operation Market Garden, or Operation Potomac." She exclaimed.

Grant and the Joint Chiefs actually looked hurt by her exclamation. The secretaries all kept their eyes on their notes; while the Quarians looked back and forth between them like it was a tennis match. Admiral 'Raan tilted his head, and took a step into the minefield asking; "What was Operation Market Garden and Potomac?" he asked.

Grant sighed and rubbed his eyes while Admiral Bilyk answered; "Market Garden was a gamble the allied powers took during our Second World War to try and end the war early.

Had it worked they could have won the war by Christmas of that year, they even could have pushed out and liberated Poland. But they had poor Intel and went in and lost horribly, completely depleted Britain's manpower and forced them into support roles while the Americans and Canadians took the reins for the most part afterwards.

And it delayed the end of the war by a full year, allowing the Soviet Union to conquer all of Eastern Europe."

Grant leaned back in his chair and said, "And Operation Potomac;"

He shot a glare at Ayelet at those words, "Was a similar operation conducted during the 2nd American Civil War. The Republican loyalists sent in the navy to try and race up the Potomac River while at the same time launching an offensive into the Appalachian Mountains.

The hope was that if they could cut off the rebels from escaping and using the Appalachians to move troops, then they could cut the Eastern Rebel territories in two by seizing control of the Potomac. The Eastern Territories would capitulate or be crushed, and they could then focus on the western Territories.

Problem with both operations is that they **had** to go off perfectly, or else it wouldn't be worth it.

Market Garden Failed horribly with disastrous strategic consequences. Operation Potomac failed because the Rebels were too well entrenched in the mountains, but the loyalists did take the Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac; so it was a strategic draw, but a tactical defeat.

Ayelet I understand your concerns, but we have planned for a total defeat. And unlike Market Garden or Potomac we have too much to lose if we don't do this."

Ayelet leaned back with a pained expression, "Damned if we do, Damned if we don't." she said softly.

There was a period of silence as everyone stewed over what had been said.

"Oh, that reminds me; Mr. President, you said that the IAA had a plan to deal with Aria?" Admiral 'Raan asked.

Grant snapped himself out of his thoughts and said, "Yeah, you remember Agent Colt? The IAA liaison at first contact."

'Raan had to think about it for a minute before the face came to him. It had been 8 months since first contact so no one would blame him for forgetting. "Hair on his upper lip, stubble on his jaw, military styled haircut, muscular and tall?" He asked.

"That's the one." Grant Confirmed

"Then yes I do remember him, he didn't talk much if I recall correctly; why would you send him though? You would need a good negotiator to deal with Aria." 'Raan replied.

Grant gave one of those smiles that Made Beto shudder; he had only seen those kinds of smiles on hunters stalking prey.

"Oh… we won't be negotiating with her, because we have an offer she can't refuse if she values her kingdom. This'll be the perfect test of our new U-boats, don't you agree?"

* * *

_**U-058,**_** Terminus Systems**

"Agent Colt, we're entering the Omega system." The skipper reported. It was a young Lieutenant Commander, who nonetheless already had served on several Prowlers beforehand. On their way there they had already destroyed two supply ships; the six remaining torpedoes were still hungry for targets.

August Colt looked at the skipper, who stood over his helmsman and Colt nodded; he walked out of the "bridge," and over to where the ground team was waiting.

There were four AI's, and six humans; the humans were dressed in "Recon" armor with stealth cloaks attached, and they each had a suppressed submachinegun except for one who had a sniper rifle, also suppressed.

The AI's were dressed like Ancient Greek warriors, with a shield, spear and sword hungry for blood.

"Ghosts, Spartans… are we ready?" he asked

The team lead, a man by the name of 1st lieutenant David Anderson, nodded and handed Colt a helmet and mask. Colt thanked him and pulled up the skintight under suit over his head and chin, and sealed the mask and put on the helmet. His HUD popped up, a blue tinge to it.

_/POWERED_COMBAT_VEST: ACTIVATED_

_/HEADS_UP_DISPLAY: ACTIVATED_

_/KENETIC_SHIELD: ONLINE_

_/AUTOMATIC_MEDICAL_SYSTEMS: ENGAGED_

_/MUNITION_LEVEL_MONITORING: ONLINE_

_/COMMUNICATION_SUITE: ONLINE_

_/HARD_LIGHT_SUITE: ACTIVATED_

_HAVE A VERY SAFE DAY!_

Colt couldn't help but chuckle at the last bit, where he was going was anywhere but safe.

He yanked the charging handle and began his rundown. "Okay; Code names from here on out, my call sign is _Walker._" They nodded and he looked at Anderson, who was holding a sniper rifle; "_Nomad,_ you and _Weaver_ will take the street across from the afterlife club. _Kozak, 30K, Midas, Holt_ you infiltrate the club and set yourselves up in her "highnesses" throne room." The Ghosts all nodded, and went back to checking their weapons.

It wasn't the first time Colt had worked with Ghosts; the Joint special operation unit that didn't exist could trace its origins back to the OSS during World War 2. But they didn't become an official unit until the 1960's, and even then they didn't exist officially.

The Ghosts had helped the Loyalist/Constitutionalist government survive the 2nd American civil war and were then allowed into the Confederacy as their premiere clandestine Special Forces unit. Next to no one still knew they existed.

He turned to the Spartans, "You four will be with me, and we'll be meeting the "Queen" personally." He tossed them stealth cloaks as well, "when we leave the boat make sure you dim your light; we don't want to stand out too much since the council has finally acknowledged our existence." They followed his instructions wordlessly, and went to checking their projectors to make sure their weapons were still working at peak efficiency.

Spartans were still new relatively; only a few decades old, due to AI tech only recently becoming advanced enough to allow AI's into frontline positions. They were the baby of the Special Forces community, and were all eager to prove themselves. Colt was more leery of them on account of only working with them once or twice in the past.

Ghosts were the scalpel, hence why he was using them for his stealth branch of the op.

Spartans were hammers in search of a nail; they were not naturally inclined for stealth, that's why he had them as his official "Bodyguards."

The eleven men and women wordlessly began prepping themselves; reviewing the plan in their heads, checking their weapons, and stretching to get ready. The skipper walked, "We're landing Agent Colt, how long will do you think it will take?" he asked.

Colt gave it some thought, "If things go as planned, not long; we go in, go out. Nice and quick, and once we're done we come back and leave; No issues.

But if things don't go as planned, one of two things will happen. I'll call you, and either I say get the hell out of here and bring a fleet when you come back; or I'll warn you to get the boat ready to go and we'll be coming in hot with an angry mob on our tail.

So if I'm honest, not long in any scenario." He said unperturbed.

The skipper looked nonplussed, and then said, "Err… right. I'll post guards at the entrance." And he walked back to the bridge.

* * *

**Omega, Landing Platform.**

Patriarch had never seen a craft like the one he was looking at before. It was angular, but thin, and it was very clearly a warship. It was smaller than a frigate, but a lot bigger than a shuttle. A small tower rested on the top of it; and there were two turrets, one on each side of the tower. One pointed to the front, and one pointed at the stern. There were four engines on the rear, and four closed hatches at the front likely more thrusters.

Patriarch had an eye for weapons of war, and he often compared warships to such weapons; and this was clearly a tool of assassination, like a dagger almost; easily concealed, easy to use, and lethal in the hands of a skilled user.

A hatch opened on the side, and when five cloaked figures walked out Patriarch almost mistook them for Asari, or Batarians. But when he got a closer look, he almost dropped his assault rifle in surprise. Four of them had a radiant glow of differing colors, marking them clearly as Spirits.

Like everyone else at Omega, Patriarch and Aria had been ready to dismiss the reports being sent from the Hierarchy. Even once the Council had released official videos of footage from the front, Patriarch still been ready to dismiss it. Turians were weak compared to Krogan after all, and besides, the hierarchy deserved the slap in the face in his opinion.

Now that he saw the four spirits sizing him up, Patriarch felt his internal danger sense going crazy. His instincts were screaming at him to take them by surprise and take them out while he still could, or run away as fast as he could.

But he hadn't lived as long as he had by letting his instincts rule his life.

Then he saw the Human in the middle of them, and Patriarch had to restrain himself from unloading his rifle into its face. Physically it was like a thin Batarian, but its eyes told Patriarch everything he needed to know.

Those were the eyes of an experienced killer, and he had already found over a dozen ways to kill him quickly and efficiently.

Then it spoke, and it spoke in fluent Krogan; it voice was like grinding stone, and it ground his ears painfully. "Do you work for Aria T'Loak?" He asked.

Patriarch shifted uncomfortably, "Who's asking?"

The Human tilted his head, his greyish blue cloak rustling against his black helmet and mask. "Someone with an offer that she cannot refuse." He replied.

* * *

**A/N: Ahh, you thought I had forgotten about good old Agent Colt didn't you? Well he's back, and I'm channeling my inner Matt Graver to get him right. Okay this Authors Note is gonna be long cause I'm going to be responding to some choice reviews. If I didn't pick you don't worry, I still see your comments. **

**I see all your comments.**

**Now then, time to address these suckers. And all of the ones that are really critical are from guests, which is kind of annoying but whatever.**

_**Guest: TBH you're not really in a position to criticize The Fourth Council Race. You can't even proofread your own story. Its and it's are not the same, they're/their/there are all used wrong, lots of missing words, I could go on. If you're going to post stories you should at least get a volunteer editor or learn grammar rules yourself.**_

**-Okay… is he seriously criticizing my grammar of all things as the excuse for me to not criticize **_**The Fourth Council Race**_**? That's… odd. Of all things to criticize, criticize the plot more than anything. I like **_**The Fourth Council Race, **_**I think it's a good quality fic, I was just criticizing a plot point I found to be rather dumb, that being the breakup of the US. Again I'm not critiquing the quality, far from it; but that one chapter really just took me out of it as America Bashing. It wasn't the intention but that was the vibe I got.**

**Moving on…**

_**Trninga: Why are you using modern day shell metrics when mass effect weaponry is measured in kilotons?**_

**-Simple, I'm American and I am most familiar with the Navy and Air Force. (My dad worked for Navy EOD and I'm a Pilot.) And again, I'm not a mass effect super fan; I don't know all the lore and specifics of it.**

**And these last series of comments were all from (I assume at least) the same guest, so let's get these out of the way.**

_**Guest:**_ _**Get the fucking church out of here.**_

_**Guest:**_ _**Please get rid of the fucking religious bullshit.**_

**And lastly…**

_**Guest:**_ _**I just cant anymore. While the concept is all good. The technology that you are using is so fucking backwards that I cant tell if this story is a fucking meme or you literally have no idea how mass effect works. Mass effect weapons range in the tens of kilotons PER ROUND. The fact that you are using modern day metrics in fucking space is rediculous.**_

**-Oh boy, where to start. Let's get the religious part out of the way first I guess. If you read Ben Shapiro's **_**The Right Side of History**_** (definitely gonna lose viewers just for mentioning him) then you probably guessed that I follow his philosophy that western civilization was built by, and maintained by Greek Logic and Judeo-Christian Values. You cannot have one without the other; and one reason America is being pulled apart is because it has swung too far away from said values. And you have to keep in mind that officially there are 1.4 billion Catholics worldwide, and that's not counting places like China; there are millions of Catholics in China that hide their religion for fear of prosecution or death. If the world ever does unite under one banner (even one as decentralized as the Confederacy,) Religion is going to be an important part of it whether we like it or not.**

**And keep in mind I made it so the Church has no official power, as there is no state religion. But with something as important as a first contact scenario, you would bring a religious representative at the very least.**

**-And for the last comment… I don't know what to tell you other than reiterate that I am not a super fan, and I'm most familiar with modern metrics so that kind of requires me to use that.**

**Ugh… I don't delete these comments because they remind me that I'm human, I make mistakes, and most importantly I can't please everyone so I don't bother trying to.**

**Now there are three viewers I'd like to give a shout out to.**

**-Pteaset**

**-The Prime Cronos**

**-** **Coment9**

**These three guys or gals have stuck with this story since the beginning (or close to it in Cronos' case) and they have not failed to give me constant encouragement in their reviews of each chapter. Truly thank you guys, I hope to keep up this story for a long time.**

**Obligatory "I would really like a TV Tropes page" comment goes here as usual.**

**If you want to do Fan Art of this story please contact me, I would be happy to give you better descriptions of my characters and places and weapons.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	17. You Cannot Refuse

**Afterlife; Omega**

Colt and his four Spartans were lead into Aria's personal chamber; there were sixteen guards at the edges of the wall. Not that Aria needed the guards; she could kill them all with her biotics if she wanted too.

Colt decided he would go with the casual, uncaring approach with her. It would wound her sensibilities as thinking herself above him. He would take his mask off too, but he would have to be careful because the Quarians had warned him that Aria would be able to read him like a book.

Well… he would just have to make sure she only read the pages he wanted her too.

* * *

Patriarch for his part watched in a mixture of horror and amusement as the Engineer plopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the table; this was going to be a short meeting. Then he saw the Engineer pull out a small metal box out from under his cloak and set it on his table.

This was an unexpected change of demeanor, before he had been radiating a sense of danger and intimidation; now he looked like he didn't have a care in the world. The guards shifted but said nothing, except for one Batarian who growled; "On your feet two eyes."

The Engineer turned his head and looked at the Batarian, then shrugged and asked; "What exactly are you gonna do about it four eyes?"

The Batarian growled again and looked like he wanted to shoot the pesky little Engineer, but then Aria walked into the room. She glared at the Batarian who immediately cowered away; then at the Engineer.

To his credit he didn't flinch; he just stared back, jerked his head and said, "How's it going beautiful?"

Aria narrowed her eyes, _Uh oh._ Patriarch thought.

"Before we start our business, there is one thing you should know. We have only one rule here on Omega." She said calmly.

The Engineer tilted his head, a tic of its species it seemed; "Yes?"

"Don't fuck with Aria. Think you can handle that little Engineer?" She asked snidely.

The Engineer shrugged, "Eh, probably; I'll be honest I was being nice calling you beautiful, I really don't see the appeal your species has. I know a lot of my people feel the same way. I prefer sleeping with Spirits or other Engineers if you ask me."

It was dead silent for a moment, then Aria laughed; not a soft laugh or a chuckle, but a full on belly aching laugh. "Oh that's rich; I'll be honest as well, it is somewhat refreshing to meet someone that is brutally honest and not an ass kisser. That being said," She made a biotic fist and thrust it to within inches of the Engineers mask. "Don't insult me again."

Patriarch was amazed as the Engineer raised its shoulders and then let them fall, "Sure thing." Did it not care about its own life? One thing was for sure, this thing had some quads.

Then the Engineer reached his hand up removed his mask, setting it down on the table with a loud _CLANG!_ That's when patriarch got his first real look at an Engineers face. It looked like a pale skinned Asari and a dark haired Quarian had a baby and this was the result; but it had a certain hardness to it that Asari lacked.

"Well let's get this over with then. I have something you want, you have something we want; so let's have a trade." Colt said.

Aria sat down and said, "Very well, what could you possibly have that benefits me? Is it one of those non-eezo based FTL drives?"

Colt raised a hand and said, "Before we continue I almost forgot," he reached forward and opened the metal box, ignoring the guards pointing their weapons at him in warning. He withdrew two small glasses, and a bottle that had Engineer writing on it. "It's customary at business meeting to have an alcoholic beverage to drink, lets people relax a bit. This is Italian wine, aged 300 years."

He poured a full glass worth in both of the little drinking glasses, and then held one up; "To prosperity Ms. Aria." He said, and kept his glass there looking at her. She seemed to get the hint and grabbed the second glass and he hit his glass against hers. He happily gulped it down, while Aria looked at it with a hint of suspicion.

The Engineer saw this and said, "Oh it's not poisoned I assure you, we are under strict orders not to kill you. I'm Agent Walker, International Affairs Agency, Special Activities Division."

"A mouthful to say to be sure." Aria muttered, then took a drink. Her eyes widened and she immediately downed the rest of it. "Holy shit that's good stuff." She exclaimed.

Walker nodded, "Glad to see someone appreciates good alcohol."

He set his glass down and leaned back. "Now I bet your wondering what we have to offer you. It's simple really, an agreement. We let you stay in power, and you don't let your bands of Pirates attack Confederacy space."

Patriarch blinked, this one had quads for sure to demand something like that with no return. Aria blinked as well, and then narrowed her eyes. Walker stood and walked to the balcony that overlooked Afterlife. "You have a lot of nerve to demand something like that."

Walker raised and lowered his shoulders again, "I'm just a soldier carrying out my governments orders. And really, it's in your best interests to take this deal. You'll find that the United Confederacy is not the Citadel Council."

He turned and glared at Aria, the aura of danger and death now surrounding him again. "You're lucky we are even talking. If it had been up to me, you would be dead from a cerebral brain hemorrhage in your bed; but alas, I must use other methods."

It took a second, and then Aria stood, practically shaking with anger. "You're breaking my one rule; you have the nerve to threaten me like that?" She growled.

Walker stood straight, no hint of fear in his eyes.

Aria sniffed, "I should kill you myself. You've done your research it seems, and you know that I hold all the advantages. You're unarmed Engineer, and your guards may be spirits but even they are no match for my biotics." She glowed blue dangerously.

"You can't win, I have the advantage." Aria sneered.

Walker raised an eyebrow silently contemplating her, then asked; "Do you?"

He looked at Aria's guards, then at the Spirits; "Go."

The four looked at each other, and then there was a blur of movement. As one, all four threw their spears at a guard; nailing each of them in the head and killing them instantly. The walls shimmered and there was a series of loud _Puffs_ as four more Engineers became visible from the wall, each triple tapping four more of Aria's guards in their heads with submachine guns.

All of this happened in the span of a few seconds.

Aria's four remaining guards began to move now, their instincts beginning to take hold. It did them no good; the four Engineers triple tapped each of them again, and then aimed their weapons at Aria. Patriarch finally began to move, and then he felt something hot grab his arms and something hot pressed itself against his throat.

Two of the Spirits had grabbed his arms, while a third had come up behind him and was holding a blade to his throat. The fourth was aiming a bow with an arrow knocked right at his head. Normally such a primitive weapon would have been dismissed as a threat, but Patriarch had no doubts that it would kill him.

"Don't move now Patriarch, we don't want to kill you; but we will if we have to." The Spirit, a female one at that, holding the blade to his throat whispered.

He shifted his gaze to Aria.

Walker had hit her like a freight train, hitting Aria's pressure points to disable her biotics. She swung and he ducked under, hitting her below the armpit. Then he punched her below the ribs on each side with enough force to produce an audible _Crack!_

She tried to summon a vortex, but Walker grabbed her in a sort of hug; then jumped with her as his cushion and slammed into the floor, with his elbow resting on her chest. Aria choked as he rapidly punched her in the throat; then he grabbed her by the chest, raised her off the ground slightly, then gave an uppercut to her jaw so hard that her head snapped back and hit the floor again knocking her out.

Walker knelt for a second, checking to make sure she was still alive, then cuffed her arms and legs. He pulled out a syringe and injected it into her main artery.

He stood and looked at Patriarch.

He nodded to himself, and asked; "Now then… where are Arias family members on Omega?"

* * *

**Omega, Unknown Location**

Aria slowly opened her eyes, in pain all over her body. She tried to raise her hand to contain a splitting headache but it jerked to a stop after a few inches. Aria looked at the chains dumbly, wondering why she was chained to a chair; then the memories of her encounter came roaring back to her in an instant.

She shot up ramrod straight and looked around.

She was inside a storage container of sorts, in front of her was a plain old metal table. And on the other side of that table was…

"You!" She hissed.

Agent walker was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the table. He tilted his head, and asked, "How's it going?"

She growled and yanked on the chains, and then she tried to use her biotics. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Walker warned her. She stopped and glared at him.

"Why wouldn't I? I can just rip your head off and break these chains and escape." She sneered.

Walker shrugged, "Wouldn't be pleasant for you. This ain't an order, just a friendly warning."

He leaned back forward, taking his feet off the table. "Now then, back to my original offer…" He started. "We let you stay as Queen of Omega and don't kill you. In exchange, you don't let any pirates or slavers into Confederacy space."

He stood and grabbed a metal box and set it on the table. He opened it and tapped a few commands into the keypad and spun it around so that Aria could see the screen, before sitting down again.

She kept control of her face, but internally dismay ran through her as she beheld…

"Nice house." Walker commented. "Whoever said crime doesn't pay clearly wasn't running a criminal empire. Now then, if you refuse; I'm going to drop a 5,000 pound bomb right on your house. All we want from you is the guarantee that you keep pirates away from the Confederacy."

He stared right in her face, and she glared back in defiance. She wasn't going to grace this primitive worm with an answer. He shook his head and grabbed a small communicator with a large antenna on it.

He started tapping the antenna on the table as he stood up and walked up to her.

_Clank._

_Clank!_

_CLANK!_

He reached over to the computer and tapped some keys; the image zoomed in on an Asari relaxing beside a pool. Aria tensed, and Walker asked "That your daughter? Cause I don't want to kill the pool lady."

This was too much, and Aria tried to use her biotics to break free.

Pain! World ending, body splitting, unbearable pain wracked her body as she screamed! She couldn't hold her concentration and released her hold on biotics. The pain drained away slowly as Aria panted, trying to regain her breath.

"Wha-what was that." She rasped.

"A kind of toxin that we developed with the help of the Quarians. It causes immense pain to those that attempt to use their biotics, we tested it on Turian biotics we took prisoner and that attempted to escape." He held up a small syringe. "Just because I'm nice, I have the antidote here with me. You give me your word, and once we verify that you act on it; we'll give patriarch the antidote. Until then… you're a mere mortal worm just like the rest of use."

He Leaned forward, "Now then, do we have a deal?" he asked calmly.

Aria refused to look him in the eye. _This has to be a bluff, not even the Batarian Hegemony would do this._ "Every pirate acts independently, they don't need my permission." She whispered, still not looking at him.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "It's kind of tricky, having slavers launch raids into Council space. They of course can't sell all of them in Batarian space because that would draw too much attention to themselves. So the question now becomes, 'where to dump the spares?' because they sure as hell don't sell 'em in council space."

He tilted his head, "No… they… sell them here. Omega is the biggest slave trading post outside of batarian space." He raised his arms "What a coincidence…"

He leaned against the table. "And you don't try to stop them, hell you even indulge yourself with those slaves. Which means, they got the green light to do business here, from you…" at those words he poked her in the chest with a finger.

He leaned forward, almost nose to nose with her; the hate in his eyes was something Aria had only seen a few times in her life; and every time it had been her eyes reflected in someone else's, people that had betrayed her.

"Every ship smuggles people, they don't need my permission." She hissed, repeating her earlier statement.

He shook his head slowly, "Yeah they fucking do." He growled right back. "Last chance. Do we have a deal?"

Aria leaned back and spit in his face, "This is a bluff vermin! The Council would never do something like this to me! I've read all about the Confederacy! Your people are even more squeamish than those spineless councilors! You have too many rules!" She roared.

Walker calmly wiped the spit from his cheek and grabbed the communicator. He hit some buttons and said coolly, "No rules today little princess, just orders." There was static for a second, and then a voice asked "Sir?"

"Your green, send it." Walker said.

"Yes sir." The voice replied.

Aria looked away from the screen, from her daughter, one of the few things in this life she cherished.

"Nah nah nah!" Walker snapped, throwing the comm equipment onto the table.

"You are watching this!" He growled, putting her in a chokehold and forcing her to look at the screen, using his fingers to keep her eyelids open. A few seconds passed, and then the screen was filled with fire and death; Aria watched silently as her daughter was practically vaporized.

She tried to use her biotics again out of instinct and screamed as the debilitating pain washed over her body. "_I WILL KILL YOU! YOU FUCKING ENGINEER SUIT RAT FUCKER! I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER! I WILL DROWN YOU IN YOUR OWN BLOOD! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" _Aria screamed in Thessian, in pain and in grief.

She cursed and raved at Walker for several minutes, before she had to stop to breath. She panted for a few minutes and became aware of Walker still standing beside her, calmly waiting for her to tire herself out. Once she had calmed down a little bit, he leaned forward and tapped a few more keys.

Aria froze; the image of another one of her daughters becoming visible, this one in an air car.

"Asari live for a thousand years I am told. You have a very big family Aria T'loak, lots of sisters and daughters. I can do this all day, but eventually; I will find the family member that you can't live without…" he leaned forward even more. "I promise you that."

He straightened up and said, "Now then… Do we have a deal?"

* * *

_**U-058**_**, Terminus Systems**

"You are so lucky Colt." Anderson grumbled unhappily.

Colt grimaced and nodded, "I know, thank God she broke on the second one, or we would have had to get creative." He replied.

Contrary to what Colt had told Aria, they had only been allowed to go after Aria's family members that were involved in piracy and on Omega or in the terminus systems. Two of her daughters had been on Omega, and two of her sisters along with one of her lovers were in the terminus system. If she had not broken after they had gone through all those, then they would have to break out the CGI kit to fool her.

And that would have backfired horribly in the long term.

Thankfully, they only needed to kill Aria's daughter on Omega to get her to crack. Patriarch would be freeing her by now, and as far as they knew _U-058_ was long gone. Of course they were hovering around in stealth mode nearby and would stay on station for a week or two to see if Aria kept her word.

If she did, then Colt would send Patriarch the cure to the anti-biotic toxin that was in Aria. He was a man of his word after all, and they made a deal. And that was all that really mattered in the end, was the deal.

* * *

**A/N: Got this one out fast didn't I? Hell yes I did. I'm putting these two messages at the front to emphasis how much I want you guys to know this. **

**If you want to do Fan Art of this story please contact me, I would be happy to give you better descriptions of my characters and places and weapons.**

**And now I shall insert the obligatory "I would really like a TV Tropes page" comment here; **

**Moving on.**

**I'll be honest, I heavily debated about whether or not to kill Aria and install Patriarch as a puppet king. In the end I decided that for the moment, Aria is more use to the Confederacy alive than dead.**

**Okay on to the comments section for last chapter. Man the cancer… and I brought it on myself. I knew I was gonna catch flak for my beliefs and man was I right… oh well, I've dealt with that kind of thing my whole life, so it's nothing new to me. **

**My dad worked for the DOD, and he met a number of politicians so he had an insider perspective. With the exception of Steny Hoyer (Current House Majority Leader, and from my home district where I grew up,) who's a pretty nice guy despite having mostly polar opposite views on domestic policy from me and my dad, most others have this condescending, "I know better than you, so you should listen to me" Kind of attitude. So if most of the Politicians in story end up high on the "political bullshit" spectrum, it's because I'm writing from experience.**

**Blagh…**

**So one reviewer by the name of Yithirim asked what I fly since I mentioned last chapter that I'm a pilot. Well it's probably a huge letdown to you all but I'm not a veteran. My vision was too poor for them to let me be any kind of pilot, so I just said "screw it," and decided that if we ever go to war I'll let myself get drafted.**

**I fly a Fokker , and my dad and I are building another one right now, I just rent one to fly at the moment. It is the most beautifully controlled airplane you will ever fly. Manfred Von Richthofen the famous Red Baron himself said, "It can turn even a novice flyer into an experienced dogfighter." It is so easy and fun to fly. **

**Every generation of aircraft have their premiere fighters, WW2 you have the Mustang; Korea you have the Sabre, Vietnam you got the Phantom, and today you have the Eagle. Well WW1's was the , and I love it so much. Just look up videos of it flying and you'll see what I'm talking about.**

**How did you guys like Agent Colts first "real" chapter?**

**Leave a Review as always, but try not to be a dick? Please?**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	18. More Diplomacy Inbound

**Washington D.C; Earth**

"So you threatened the most powerful women in all of the Terminus Systems, killed her daughter while forcing her to watch, and then disabled her biotics…

And you left her alive, that definitely won't come back to bite us in the ass.

Is Grant trying to start a multi front war or get us assassinated? Because it sure seems like it, if I didn't know better I would assume he was suicidal." Newly elected Quarian President Beto'Raan growled over the Holo-conference.

"And congratulations on your election Mr. President, it will be a pleasure working with you too." Chancellor Isaaman replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She turned to Agent Colt,

"Why did you leave her alive?" She asked more seriously.

Colt's hologram shrugged and tilted his head, "Mostly to see what she would do. Killing her now would draw too much attention to ourselves anyway; keeping her alive as a puppet benefits us more. Besides I didn't give her the full antidote. Her biotics are only half as potent now, I'm not an idiot."

Raan tried to rub his eyes, "I do hope you have a contingency plan for if she double crosses us. Or rather, I should say when."

Colt nodded, "Of course sir. Once this war is over, we can decide a more permanent solution to the pirate problem."

Beto nodded, then looked around the room and asked, "Where's Grant?"

"His airfield in Montana, Vesta practically dragged him to the chopper to make him go. He's going to teach Artemis how to fly, while Vesta sits in the hospital. Baby's due any day now." George replied, looking at some field reports.

Beto smiled behind his visor, "Well give him my congratulations while he's away. I heard Senator Stevens is trying to pass the law renaming AI's to 'Synthetic Humans.'"

Singh nodded, "At the rate he's going it'll pass unanimously. In all honesty it's been a long time coming. AI's have been around since the 2080's, but they really didn't get their physical bodies until 2150's. Even then the Hard Light Emitters and AI's gaining human traits didn't come around until… oh 60 years ago.

That's short in the grand scheme of things.

It took a hundred years for African Americans in the United States to gain full rights after they were freed from slavery."

Beto looked at some documents on his new desk. The Admiralty board no longer held any power, and were just advisors to the president now. It was a blessing and a curse; because he had to deal with everything now. The Responsibilities of the executive being divided between two people were beginning to make sense to him now.

"Hmmm… What of the Amendment to admit the Quarian Republics into the Confederacy?" He asked absently.

Singh winced, "Udina and the Isolationists are fighting tooth and nail to stop it dead. They are terrified that it will lead to even more government control."

Raan tilted his head, "That is still something that confuses me honestly, why are they so afraid of centralized government? I've talked with Udina quite a bit now, and he doesn't strike me as a racist contrary to the federalists claims; so what's his endgame?"

Singh rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache beginning to form. _I'm getting to old for this, as soon as Grants out I'm done with politics._ He thought.

"It's because he has to play to his base. I don't know how it works in the Citadel Council and in the Conclave before the provisional government was set up, but here every elected official in the government answers to the people. If the delegates and senators don't do their job representing their constituents then they will almost surely get kicked out of office come their next election.

And they are afraid of a too centralized government because every time in our people's history, a centralized government amassed too much power, and began oppressing its people.

Many of them are terrified of such a thing happening again. Its why many of the Nation-States like the United States, Poland, France, Israel, Russia, China just to name a few, still have standing militaries."

Singh rubbed his temples again,

"Why do you think New Athens is such a sore point for them? On one hand the colony wanted to leave the confederacy, which they defend. On the other hand, the majority of the populace wanted to stay, and a fascist dictatorship took power to try and force them to leave; so a little bit of a dilemma for them.

Overthrow the local government and force them to stay, or let them leave and let the people suffer under a dictatorship.

The ones that wanted to leave were still a sizable minority; about 30-40% wanted to leave and approved of the new government. The only way a race as divided as ours can survive as a unified people is to let them govern themselves as much as possible."

Beto shook his head. The Nation-States of earth were still a bit of a diplomatic sore point for many Quarians. Many nations welcomed Quarian pilgrims and refugees with open arms, but the isolationist nations were not as open. Some, such as the African countries, had even banned Quarians from entering at all.

And the Confederacy Legislature and Executive refused to do anything about it. The Legislature refused because they felt it was the courts job to deal with the matter. The executive refused because they were afraid it would incite violence and in some extreme cases, rebellion.

And the courts would likely rule in favor of the nations because it was their country, and they were free to do as they wished so long as they did not violate the Bill of Human Rights.

Beto hoped that they could find a way to end the war soon, because Grants gambit to take Palaven was tantamount to suicide in his opinion. Hackett and most of the higher ranking field commanders felt the same way, which was why they had begged Beto to try and convince Grant to change his mind.

But Grant wasn't there, and the invasion was due to start in a week.

_Ancestors curse the Asari for banishing us, but I hope they force the Turians to negotiations soon._ He Thought.

* * *

**Asari Cruiser Nefrane; February 2****nd****, 2233 AD**

Matriarch Benezia T'Soni stood on the bridge of the cruiser she was now taking into Confederacy space. She would have taken a frigate to appear as less of a threat, but the Turian Councilor Mellius insisted.

"_They will blast you to pieces if they even suspect you intend to do anything harmful. You at least will need a ship that can provide protection."_ She recalled him saying.

The plan was to broker a surrender from the Confederacy, tell them that if they didn't surrender then they would be destroyed by the full might of the Citadel Council. It was a bluff of course, the Salarians had no interest in fighting a war the Turians had started, beyond doing black ops to gather intelligence. And the Asari had to maintain their neutrality for when peace inevitably did break out.

"Matriarch, we are exiting the relay in one minute." A crewman informed her from the helm.

She nodded and looked at the Spectre assigned as her aide/bodyguard. He was an older Salarian by the name of Orstin Solus. He was actually close to retirement, but he had decided that he still had a few years left in him, and a simple diplomatic mission would suit him fine.

"What do you think of this Confederacy Orstin?" She asked.

"Perhaps a military junta or a simple coalition/alliance. All prisoners taken insist on terminology reminiscent of a particular military branch; Airman, Sailor, Soldier, and Marine are all terms used. Inter-service rivalry? Perhaps.

The Spirits are very powerful and know it, Engineers are smart, and play to enemy's weaknesses. They will either take us prisoner, or destroy the ship. Not encouraging for our survival." He rambled.

They emerged from the relay, and found themselves staring at a fleet of thirty ships. They were varying sizes; three cruiser sized vessels, but one was a hollow tube indicating that it was one of those "escort carriers" the Turians had run into. The majority were destroyers and frigates, split about half and half. Far away was the planet, orbital guns were aimed in their direction almost certainly primed and ready to fire.

"Oh Goddess…" She whispered.

"Matriarch there is a message coming through, audio only. It was transmitted in _Khelish _but we've translated it for you." The Comm officer reported.

"Play it." Benezia ordered.

There was pause for a few seconds, and then a deep grating voice came over the speakers.

"This is Rear Admiral William Halsey of task group 14 of the 5th fleet. Unidentified Citadel Council Vessel you have entered Confederacy space. You will depower your ship and prepare to be boarded. Any sudden moves and you will be destroyed. Do you understand these instructions? Respond now."

There was a long pause, then Benezia swallowed thickly; "Transmit this please, 'This is Matriarch Benezia T'Soni, we understand and are standing down. We are here to discuss your war with the Turian Hierarchy'."

As the message was sent, Benezia contemplated what little they knew about the Confederacy. _Highly militaristic, even their civilians on their colonies have picked up arms to resist Turian occupation. Highly defensive mindset, strong orbital shields, vast networks of trenches protecting their cities and generators; Are capable of mercy as they do take prisoners, according to Spectre Arterius._

She was broken out of her thoughts as one of the crewmen exclaimed, "Matriarch, four frigates and a destroyer are heading for our position now. What do we do?" The young Asari was still a maiden, and very much afraid.

"We do what they tell us to, within reason of course." She ordered.

It took about ten minutes, and then the destroyer clamped itself atop the ship. She could hear the Humans roaring orders to the crew as they moved, their powered armor clanging against the bulkhead.

The entrance to the bridge opened, and over a dozen Humans rushed in.

The all began screaming orders at them, many of the maidens on the bridge flinched at the sudden barrage of noise coming at them.

"ON THE GROUND NOW! HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" The leader screamed.

Benezia made sure the rest of her crew did the same, before lying prone on the deck and putting her hands on her head. She tried not to think about the indignity of an Asari Matriarch being forced into such a position. _I can't attack them, this is for peace._ She reminded herself.

"You can't do this! We are on a diplomatic mission from the council, we are Asari!" Benezia heard a maiden exclaim. She a clicking noise and she looked to see the Haman soldiers putting metal cuffs on said maidens wrists.

"Man shut up and save the bull for the ride out." The soldier cuffing the maiden snapped.

A pair of armored boots now stood In front of her, and Benezia looked up to see a helmetless human standing over her. The Similarities between them and Asari were striking, but if Benezia was honest with herself, they looked more like Quarians.

This one looked older and more grizzled than the others, with its hair having streaks of grey in it. It had to have been male since it had hair on its upper lip as well. The suspicion in its eyes was striking.

"Matriarch Benezia T'Soni I presume." He grunted.

She hesitated, unsure of what he would do.

"Stand up," He grunted.

She stood, and smoothed her dress. She made sure not to make any sudden movements that would spook them. "Who are you?" She asked.

He stiffened and saluted, although it was clear that the gesture was a formality as opposed to one done out of respect. "Sergeant Major Benteen Custer. We must ask you and that Salarian to come with us ma'am."

She nodded, and gestured for Orstin to stand. "Where are you taking us?" She asked.

"First we are taking you aboard the _Stuttgart _to determine if your intentions are real and that this is not a deception of some sort. Then, we will take you to earth and you will meet with the President and Chancellor to discuss the surrender of the Turian Hierarchy."

* * *

**A/N: Not much to say beyond I still want a TV Tropes page for this story.**

**If you want to do fanart, please PM and we can work something out.**

**Onto the Comments.**

**radindusan2: Bullshit abot guud muslems-/bad christians is just that, we're always ready to kill of Christans,kidnap and usurp any aand all christand that you are muzzrat lover,like all those useless sjw.**

**-(Cue clip of Gunny Sgt. Hartman opening Pvt. Pyle's locker with my Profile Pic plastered over Hartmans) "Holy Jesus… What is that?! What the Fuck is that?!" (Pulls out this comment.)**

**I made sure I copied the comment directly from the site so you didn't think I left anything out.**

**Yeah… illiterate comments aren't that new, but this is my first one so... I think he was complaining about me saying there are good Muslims in the future? If so there's an easy justification for this; do you honestly see Islam surviving in its current state if the world united under one government, even one as decentralized as possible? No of course not, they would have to reform if they wanted to survive. **

**KyliaQuilor: Save your thinly-veiled and entirely out of place attacks on the source media for a Blog not for your fanfic.**

**-(Clip of Doctor Evil with my profile pic over his face turning around and wheeling over in his chair.) "…How 'bout No?" **

**In all seriousness, I do try to keep my biases out of this story; but since it's based on Spielberg's "Lincoln," an already highly political film its inevitable my personal biases leak out. But I'll try my best to mitigate that in the future.**

**Elogost27549: Came for a mass effect first contact fan fic. Got a story about submarines, religion, and american politics.**

**-He's not wrong, but to be fair this story is like Spielberg's "Lincoln," Tom Clancy's "Hunt for Red October," and Mass Effect mashed into one story, so this kind of thing was inevitable.**

**I will admit, I feel like there's a grace period where the first 48 hours for a chapter are typically going to contain encouraging comments, or at least constructive ones; then after that the likelihood of it being hateful or illiterate increases every hour. **

**Have to give Quick shout out to Fanfic writer "Pluto's Daughter 11," she has a bunch of really good alternate universe stories for Percy Jackson. If you're not interested in Percy Jackson, then yeah it's probably not your cup of tea. **

**I've had some people who wonder why I reach across the board to other writers if they aren't Mass Effect or at least Sci-Fi writers. Simple, we writers gotta stick together from you greedy masses. In all seriousness, I feel like with how saturated this site is with crappy fics it's hard to find good writers and stories. So I feel kind of a sense of duty to help my fellow writers who are actually good so they get the attention they deserve. **

**Yeah… Be sure to check her out.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	19. Spirits, Humans, and Asari, Oh My!

**UCNS Nyx's Chariot; Palaven Invasion Fleet **

McHale was gripping the plasti-glass tacpad in his hands so hard that it was starting to crack.

The rest of the crew went about their business, avoiding the captain as much as possible. McHale was a happy, fun, go-lucky kind of guy most of the time; even deep in enemy space. But on the rare occasion he got angry, he got really angry.

Nox gulped as she approached her captain, the young lieutenants blackish-purple light dimming as she approached. "Sir…" she started hesitantly, "What are our orders?"

He snapped his gaze to her, and unconsciously his grip tightened.

"New orders from Earth," He said flatly; handing her the tac-pad, "Carry them out Nox."

She nodded and walked away with the pad, giving orders out to the Helm and having them input in new coordinates. McHale kept his face level, but inside he was boiling. He didn't understand or like his new orders. And things he didn't understand made him angry.

After stewing it over for a few minutes, he hit the intercom button and waited as the whistling noise sounded throughout the ship. "Crew this is the skipper speaking, we have just gotten orders to leave our Wolfpack and invasion fleet and rendezvous with the _UCNS Stuttgart_ to ferry a VIP from Task Group 14 of the 5th fleet to Earth. All compartments are to be cleaned, all Enlisted men are to wear the standard BDU's, and all Officers and CPO's will wear Khakis and slacks for the duration of our journey from pickup to drop off."

McHale gave a very long pause.

"And please knock on the bulkhead for good luck, and to increase the chances that the temperature regulator doesn't break."

* * *

**UCNS Stuttgart; Conference Room**

"Again I cannot express enough my regret at Sergeant Major Custer's actions on your cruiser. We were justifiably worried that you message was a trap and we didn't want to take chances, but his treatment of you and the rest of your crew despite it being plainly obvious that you were not Turian is an embarrassment to me and my fleet, and a blemish on the rest of the Confederacy." Admiral Halsey said calmly, a regretful expression on his face.

Benezia rubbed her temples, _At least they understand diplomacy. _She looked up and said, "None of my crew were killed or seriously injured, so no harm done."

Halsey didn't seem convinced, "Nonetheless, he will be facing a severe reprimand once you arrive on earth, possibly even a court martial for unnecessary force. I hope this does not tarnish any potential diplomatic relations between the Confederacy and the rest of the council." He stated.

Benezia shifted, "I suppose this will come up at one point or another, but what is your government? We were under the belief that you're a Military Junta or something similar."

Halsey raised an eyebrow, and then laughed. Not a soft chuckle, but a genuine belly aching laugh; Benezia blinked and leaned back somewhat, taken aback by Halsey's sudden good cheer. After a few minutes he calmed down enough to answer her.

"A military Junta, Ha! We are anything but that. The United Confederacy is a Constitutional Federal Republic. We have three branches in our government with heavy Checks and Balances on all institutions to prevent any one organization from amassing power and attempting to overthrow the government.

The Executive is made up of the President, and the Chancellor along with all of the cabinet secretaries that act as their advisors and deputies. The Chancellor represents the Nations that make up the Confederacy, while the President represents the people.

The Legislature is made up of two houses; one is the Senate, or the upper house, the other is the House of Delegates, or the lower house. The pass laws, confirm cabinet appointees, declare war and ratify treaties.

The Judicial interprets law, and can declare any law, bill, or action taken by the Executive or the legislature unconstitutional or constitutional depending on how it is.

The Supreme law of our land is the Bill of Rights. There are a little more than two amendments in it. They are all limits on the government, and rights guaranteed to the people no matter what. The right to bear arms, the right to free speech, freedom of religion, freedom of the press; etcetera, etcetera you get my point."

Benezia felt like her head was going to explode; just on the preliminary way the government had been set up it felt like it was an unthinkable mess of a system. _At least I'm not dealing with a dictatorship like the Batarians._ She thought.

She didn't voice these thoughts aloud of course, instead opting to say; "That sounds… interesting. You said that someone will be arriving soon to pick me and my security and diplomatic teams up?"

Halsey nodded, "Yes. You should feel honored; Brevet Captain Benjamin McHale himself is on his way. You know, it's because of him that the Turians have found themselves stalemated." He noted.

Benezia narrowed her eyes a minute fraction, "What do you mean?" She asked.

Halsey shrugged, "He's the one that's been leading the Prowler and U-Boat Wolfpacks deep into Turian space and destroying their supply convoys. He's turned Prowlers from these simple scouting ships into real viable weapons of war, and created the cheap mass produced U-Boat along the way." Halsey explained, admiration creeping into his voice as he talked.

He didn't notice Benezia's hands clench slightly. _So he's the one responsible for all those maidens killed in the attack on the Citadel. Ohhhh he will regret that when the Confederacy is made a member of the Council._

Then Halsey's gaze shifted out the window, as he did so a light on his desk blinked. He hit it and a whistle came from it. "Yes?" he asked.

"Admiral, the _Nyx's Chariot _has arrived in system and is requesting permission to dock." The executive officer of the ship said.

Halsey looked at Benezia, and then nodded; "That was fast, I only sent the message a few hours ago. Very well permission given, and tell him and his XO to get up to my office once they are docked." He ordered.

He released the button, and reached under his desk and brought out a drink. "This is 2019 Three Mile Island wine; I assume you and your kind have alcoholic beverages in your space?" He asked with a smile.

Benezia nodded with a smile as Halsey poured out four glasses; two for himself and her, and another two for Captain McHale and his assistant she assumed. She took the glass with a quiet "thank you," and gave a quick scan for poison; upon finding none she took a sip.

It was better tasting than even Thessian Wine, which was a genuine surprise to Benezia. "Good huh?" Halsey asked with a small chuckle on seeing her reaction. "Funny seeing as the grapes used to make it was grown near a nuclear reactor that had a minor meltdown."

He stopped at seeing the alarm on her face and he quickly set down his glass and raised his hands in a universal placating gesture. "Don't worry, the meltdown was contained to the building and it happened decades before this wine was even made."

Benezia sighed slightly in relief, feeling somewhat stupid as her omni-tool would have detected any residual radiation, and the Admiral would not be drinking it if it wasn't safe. They made small talk for several minutes before Captain McHale walked into the Admirals Office.

"With all due respect Admiral Halsey, I hope there is a good reason I have been called away from my Wolfpacks and-" McHale started as he walked in, then stopped upon seeing Benezia.

She decided to take the moment to study the man that had revolutionized space warfare for the Council races. He was surprisingly youthful, clearly a young adult at the oldest. He had a thin amount of fur on his jaw, and a thick amount on his upper lip. He had a moderate amount on his head, but it was trimmed and slicked to one side. But his eyes belied a keen intelligence, the mind of a military genius. His tan uniform was plain like the Admirals, a gold bird was pinned onto his lapel in contrast to the Admirals two silver stars.

According to Halsey, he was a Brevet Captain; an honorary promotion for bravery or distinguished service. That meant he was treated with the respect, responsibilities, and honor normally given to a regular Navel Captain. But he only received the pay and benefits of his "real" rank, Lt. Commander, and a Brevet rank was only valid during wartime; once the war was over he would be given back his old rank. And the rank insignia was given the opposite color of its real one. A regular captain would have a silver bird, McHale had a gold one.

He and his "wolfpacks," had almost singlehandedly strangled the Turian economy. Asari and Salarian ships were turned back at gunpoint; Turian ships were destroyed. Benezia had little doubts that if the council joined the war on the Turians side, McHale would not hesitate to blockade any and all Mass Relays with wolfpacks and choke the Council into submission.

A dangerous man to say the least.

She noticed a female spirit walk in behind him, dark purple that almost looked black. She also looked more uncomfortable and awkward than her superior. It reminded Benezia of young maidens talking with matriarchs almost, which brought a small smile to her face.

"Captain McHale, this is Ambassador Benezia T'Soni representing the Citadel Council. You will be escorting her and her diplomatic team to Earth to meet with the President." Admiral Halsey explained.

Benezia could see McHale working out the reasoning almost instantly.

"You can't leave the planet undefended, and the _Nyx's Chariot_ is one of the fastest ships in the navy." He stated flatly.

Benezia could tell by his tone of voice, if it was at all similar to an Asari's, that he was displeased by his orders. But he was too disciplined or too stoic to voice his objections, so he quickly saluted the Admiral, his aide following suite.

He turned to Benezia and said, "Please gather your diplomatic team Ambassador. Lieutenant Nox, will guide you through the _Stuttgart _and to the_ Nyx_." He saluted again; then strode off, leaving his flustered aide to deal with her.

_Hm… it appears he doesn't like me any more than I like him. It's just as well; I was planning on avoiding him anyway._ She thought to herself.

The purple-black spirit, Nox if she remembered correctly, made a soft coughing noise. "Ah, p-please follow me a-ambassador." She stuttered, clearly unprepared to deal with someone of her stature. Benezia simply smiled and nodded; standing and following the child outside. _They are all children compared to me, but this one seems to be particularly young._ Benezia idly noted.

It was quiet as they walked. Something Benezia noticed was that all the non-officers, wore oddly colored blue and grey camouflage, while all the officers wore tan uniforms. Spirits "wore" uniforms the same color as their body, but they did have a symbol denoting their rank. She also noted that all the "enlisted men" as Admiral Halsey called them would stop what they were doing and would salute any officer that walked by.

_Heavy emphasis on rank and hierarchy, Oh goddess we're dealing with another Turian Hierarchy. _She thought.

Deciding that she couldn't tolerate the silence any longer Benezia decided to make small talk. "So how long do your kind live, just out of curiosity?" She asked Nox.

The young spirit jumped slightly as they made their way around the ship to where her diplomatic team was being held. "W-who? My kind o-r humans?" she asked.

Benezia shrugged, noting her hesitation, _she almost said "my kind of human."_ _That confirms the Salarian's theory about them being related._ She noted, filing that away for later; "Either one. My kind can live about 1000 years; we live the second longest, although the Krogan can theoretically live about 1,500 years but they tend to not survive that long."

Nox's eyes widened, it was a little unnerving to Benezia because it looked like she didn't have irises. "Wow… uh, I don't know because our lifespan keeps increasing. For my kind we could theoretically live forever, but most choose to die after a couple hundred years because they can't bring themselves to live for much longer. Humans so far can live from 200 to 250, but again their lifespan keeps increasing. About 200 years ago humans could live to about ninety. A little more than 300 years ago the average human wasn't expected to live past their early sixties, so we don't really know."

Centuries of diplomatic experience kept Benezia's eyes from exploding out of her head. It was unheard of for a species to extend its own lifespan like that. Even the Asari and Krogan hadn't been able to do so with their own extended lifespans.

_I am dealing with species that can think just as long term as we can._ Benezia realized, immediately ordering herself to tread carefully in the future.

They reached the temporary quarters where her diplomatic and security team were being held. "I'll um… I'll wait outside; just let me know when you're ready ma'am." Nox said. Benezia nodded and entered the compartment.

As soon as she entered she was bombarded with a wave of questions that disoriented her.

"Matriarch are you alright?!"

"Why are they holding us here?!"

"Do they have biotics?!"

"What was that spirit doing with you?!"

Benezia held up a hand, "Quiet please!" she ordered. The assembled Salarians and Asari quickly quieted themselves, waiting for her to continue. She rubbed her temples, then said; "Gather your things; we are departing on another ship for a planet called Earth. We'll be meeting with their president."

They quickly made to follow her orders, eager to leave the ship. Orstin already had his things gathered, and walked over to almost assuredly ask her questions.

"Biotics?" he asked.

She shook her head "Not from what I could see no."

"Government?"

She let some of the confusion slip onto her face; "They claim to be a Constitutional Federal Republic, but I only understood the republic part."

"Hmm… Never heard either term before. Anything about their physical capabilities?"

Benezia shrugged, "All are fit, and well trained. The spirit outside, Nox, stated that spirits can theoretically live forever but most can't bear to live that long and kill themselves. Humans can live from 200 to 250 years, but she noted that their lifespan keeps increasing."

Orstin blinked at that; "That should be impossible, no species has found a way to extend their lifespan."

Benezia shrugged again, "I don't know, perhaps it is possible and we just don't know how."

She looked over and saw that everyone else had finished packing already. Not a big surprise considering how little most of them had taken with them. "Are we ready?" she asked.

They all nodded and gave confirmation as a group.

"Then let's go."

* * *

**A/N: Happy belated Independence day for my fellow Americans. I wanted to rush to get this out on the fourth, but then realized that this chapter really had nothing to do with it so I slowed down took my time. **

**Insert obligatory "I want a TV tropes page really badly" here.**

**If you want to do any fan art, please PM and I can give you more detailed descriptions; and I'll make sure to give you a shout out in the next chapter.**

**So I'm thinking of doing 2 stories, one being a sort of prequel anthology covering Grant's exploits in the 20 years he served over New Athens, Vesta's life as a loyalist spy, McHale's shenanigans in his early career, you get the idea. **

**The other, I plan to be a crossover between the Confederacy and… well I'll save it for later. I don't want you guys to get tainted by a preview and stereotypes regarding the franchise. If it isn't popular or well like I'll render it either non-canon or simply tie up the story by making the crossover series and the Confederacy go their separate ways to meet up maybe several hundred years later when both are ready.**

**I don't feel like addressing any comments directly today, mostly because they said things that I addressed in this chapter, but there are two exceptions.**

_**Jotun:**_** I am NOT US military; I want to make that very clear. I do not want to get hit with that fake veteran stuff; I respect the military too much to even think of trying that. Also, I'm trying to show that the Confederacy is not so different from the council. Arrogant, quick on the trigger, etc. The difference is that the Confederacy is more than willing to pull the trigger on an issue, while the council will simply let it stew.**

_**Trace Reading: **_**I will admit, using modern day product placement was a mistake on my part; and one I've taken steps to avoid in the future. The enlisted crew being referred to as "Torpedoman/woman" according to their job is my own distinct military slang in universe. And Macron enlisting at 17 has a very easy explanation. In the confederacy, orphans can enlist at 17, or you can enlist at 17 with parental permission provided you pass the requirements. **

**Every day I feel more and more like an old man trapped in a young adult's body. I'm getting more and more grumpy at the world with each passing day. Bah!**

**Well… Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	20. 1st Battle of Palaven

**August 28****th**** 2233, **_**UCNS Nyx's Chariot; **_**Confederacy Space.**

"This is by far, the most cramped ship I have ever been on. How do these humans tolerate it?" One maiden complained.

It was probably the tenth complaint Benezia had heard since the _Nyx_ had left the _Stuttgart _less than five hours ago. When Nox had led the diplomatic team to the Prowler, all of them had been taken off guard by how small it was.

It had been smaller than a frigate, not by much, but still surprising.

Then when they loaded into it, they discovered just how small it was. The _Nyx_ wasted no space when it came to everything. The Diplomatic team was stuck in the sleeping area, with only a curtain separating them from the crew that was sleeping. And they were heavy sleepers too; a crewman would enter, squeeze into their bunk, and pass out immediately.

Nox had been kind enough to at least give them a tour beforehand. There were a total of four toilets, and four showers onboard. The showers were programed so that it ran water for twenty seconds, stop for another twenty while the crewman scrubbed themselves down with soap, then run for thirty seconds to get the suds off.

Only a small curtain gave the user privacy.

It was the almost casual way the spirit had described it that drove it home for everyone just how cramped and normal it was for the crew. When asked why, she simply shrugged; "It's a holdover from the old days back on earth from submarine crews. The Prowler and U-Boat corps are their successors in a sense." The Spirit had then smiled and leaned over and mock whispered conspiratorially, "The truth is, we can recycle up to 98% of the water used from anything. But the skipper is rightfully paranoid about the water recyclers breaking and leaving us with only the water we haven't used yet."

There was two Justicars, four maidens, and six Salarians; not counting Benezia herself or Spectre Solus. And they still felt like they were being squashed, though the Justicars were not inclined to complain about it; likely having dealt with far worse in their lives.

They had their own rations, but since humans and spirits were levo-based species, their food was safe to eat. Some of the maidens were afraid the humans would try and poison them, but Orstin had dismissed that notion outright by saying that even if they had something to gain from that, their omnitools would detect any attempt at it.

Deciding that she would get some answers on the food situation, Benezia excused herself and went to find Lieutenant Nox. She had grown somewhat fond of the young spirit, and had seen a lot of Liara's qualities in her. She walked through the cramped hallways, and narrowly avoiding bashing her head on the pipes as she made it to the bridge.

She hadn't been there yet, and found that like the rest of the ship, it was cramped. Captain McHale sat at his chair reading reports on his pad, Nox was looking at a screen that showed the map of the galaxy, while the other crewman went about their tasks with almost Geth like efficiency.

Benezia almost shuddered upon remembering those mechanical abominations.

"Pardon me ma'am." A crewman said, as he walked by; practically shoving her out of the way. The first few times that had happened, Benezia had found herself very annoyed by the lack of respect; but Orstin had pointed out, "They have one task on this ship, and they do it. We just get in their way. Yes they will answer an officer, but only when addressed by said officer."

Despite her high status, she wasn't an officer; so the crew could care less about her.

She cleared her throat, drawing McHale's and Nox's attention. "Ah, Matriarch, I was actually about to send for you; please come in." McHale said before Benezia could say anything.

A few crewman glanced at her before returning to their tasks.

"I wanted to inform you that we will reach Earth in twenty four hours, Consider yourself lucky that the Cole Protocol has been temporarily rescinded for this vessel; it would have been three days otherwise." McHale said, giving her a smile that was clearly strained.

He really did not want her on his ship.

She nodded, "Thank you Captain; I was wondering if it was alright if my team has some of your food? The maidens are really eager to try your food." She said.

McHale shrugged, "So long as they only take one reasonably sized serving I have no problem with it. Just don't bother the crew if they want to be left alone. The mess is one of the few places they can relax." Then he walked back to his seat, going back to his reports.

Nyx smiled shyly, "I'll show you the way, follow me."

Benezia followed the Spirit back to the living quarters where they picked up the rest of the team, then followed the Spirit down a set of ladder-stairs. That alone baffled all of them, they were too steep to be stairs, but too shallow to be ladders.

"Why do you have these and not elevators?" One maiden asked as she struggled down, trying not to fall.

Nyx looked amused, "We have an emergency elevator that goes through all decks, and it goes to sick bay. Beyond that it's a waste of space; capitol ships like Troop Assault Carriers might have a few dedicated elevators to moving equipment or large groups, but beyond that it's seen as an unnecessary luxury. We only have the emergency elevator so that stretchers can be brought to the sick bay without injuring a person further." She explained.

After about three minutes, at which point a few crewman had gathered and were impatiently waiting so they could get to where they needed to be, the diplomatic team managed to get down without hurting themselves.

They walked into the dining area, which proved to be… somewhat spacious compared to the rest of the ship, but considering how cramped everything was that wasn't saying much. There were 9 small tables with four chairs around each of them. Only three were occupied, and beyond giving Benezia and the rest of her cohort a glance, they ignored them.

"Today's breakfast is Egg and Sausage sandwiches with assorted fruit and hash browns, Lunch will be Hamburgers and Hotdogs with vegetables and chips, and dinner is Steak and Baked potatoes with soda's." Nox stated, before getting a dreamy look on her face. "Monday and Friday are the best days for food. We get this today, and on friday we get Taco's, Fajitas, and Mexican rice for Lunch and Dinner is Spaghetti and Meatballs, Pizza, and whatever dessert we want."

While Benezia didn't know how good any of this food was, just the look on Nox's face told her this was above standard for humans at least. "Do all ships have this kind of selection for food?" She decided to ask.

Nox shook her head, and Benezia could have sworn the spirit had started to drool, and she said; "No. only capitol ships like Aircraft Carriers or Troop Assault Carriers typically get good food. Prowlers and now U-Boats are the exception to this rule because it's incredibly miserable on these ships no matter how you spin it, and food is one of the only comforts." The spirit crossed her arms and held her upper lip for a moment. "But that being said, I prefer this to being an infantryman, if only because they get the worst food out of everyone." Everyone laughed at the joke, and Nox gave a small smile.

None of them noticed the slight twitch in the Spirits eye as she thought about the Palaven invasion fleet. She hoped that the invasion would go well, but she wouldn't know until they reached Earth. She could only pray in the meantime.

* * *

**Palaven Invasion Fleet; August 29****th**** 2233**

The Palaven invasion fleet enters the Turian system, finding it suspiciously empty. Vice Admiral Hackett, already sensing danger, scrambles several bomber squadrons into the area to try and find the Turian defense fleet.

Three Fleet Carriers, the _UCNS Enterprise, Qwib Qwib, _and _Rayya_; along with seven Escort Carriers, Admiral Hackett's flagship the _Antietam_ among them prowls the asteroid field searching for targets. The Fleet Carriers each hold over 120 aircraft; while the Escort Carriers hold over 50 each. All of them scramble eight Chariot Torpedo Bombers in search of the enemy fleet.

By 8:30 AM all three troop assault carriers and the one hundred ships protecting them have made landfall and established several footholds on Palaven. Already savage fighting has erupted on the planet, but General Williams reports success at establishing footholds planet side; and has already begun construction of an airbase and an orbital shield generator to prevent the Turians from bombarding their positions from space.

By 8:52 AM, close to 100 bombers are patrolling the system as the Confederate search and destroy fleet waits in the asteroid belt. Among them are Fleet Carrier _UCNS Enterprise _aviators William Strong, and Juna'Shaes vas Enterprise. Their mission is to find the enemy fleet and report their position to the Confederate fleet.

Just several hundred kilometers away, the angular birdlike ships of six Turian dreadnaughts emerge from behind the shadow of one of the planets in the System. Several dozen frigates, destroyers, and cruisers shadow them; the two pilots are caught off guard by the sudden appearance of only a portion of the defense fleet.

"_I remember wondering why our scanners had not picked them up earlier. The Human U-Boats and Prowlers were all guarding the relays to make sure no one came and interfered, so that left us to search the system. I asked Will and he told me that the Turians were beginning to adopt the Confederacy's tactics of an elastic defense. They had deployed jammers all across the system to force us to divide our fleet. Now we faced a dilemma as to what we should do." –Lt. Cmdr. Juna'Shaes_

The two pilots are right above the trailing Dreadnaught, the _Spirits Fury_; if the two lone aviators can damage her badly enough, it might help even the odds, and there isn't a single Turian fighter in sight. But it's a risky move, even without air cover the _Fury _boasts dozens of AA guns that could easily rip the two bombers to shreds.

But their commander has given them permission to attack, and the opportunity is too good to pass up.

The two pilots light their accelerators and dive towards the massive ship. The Dreadnaught and the rest of the ships in the fleet open up with every gun they have, but it's too late. Both torpedoes slam into the _Fury's _engines, crippling the ship.

The damage done the two pilots immediately make a run for it; incredibly, both bombers have taken no damage, and have delivered the first devastating blow in the battle to come.

But it's the Turians that strike the next blow.

Two more Dreadnaughts, supported by over fifty ships, jump into the asteroid belt having tracked the Bombers back to the fleet. The Confederates have no idea another Turian naval force are heading right for them. The search and destroy Fleet travels in two groups approximately 0.2 light minutes apart, the _Enterprise, Antietam, Waterloo, _and _Stalingrad _along with a little more than forty escorts in one group; while the _Rayya, Qwib Qwib, Gettysburg, Warsaw, Berlin, _and _Rome _along with sixty more escorts are in the other.

Just as the Turian fleet moves into range of the _Rayya'_s group, _Enterprise'_s enters the shadow of a dwarf planet. The interference from the planet will offer concealment from the Turian fleets sensors. For now _Enterprise_'s group is safe, the _Rayya _is not so lucky.

Several thousand kilometers away, the Turian fleet pounces.

The Carriers immediately launch all of their fighters, while their escorts form a screen in a vain attempt to protect their carriers.

To the Confederates horror, the Turians begin launching hundreds of aircraft from the nearby planetary moon, swarming the carriers and the few escorts that stayed with them. The escorts immediately close ranks with their carriers, launching swarms of torpedoes to keep the Turian fleet at bay.

The Turian fleet falls back out of the two fleets respective effective ranges, but there's no stopping the hundreds of fighters and bombers swarming the Confederate fleet.

"_The guns of the fleet just laid on a terrific barrage of firepower that filled the area with huge explosions and tracers. They did a tremendous job of stopping the Turian ships and planes from getting close to us; the problem was that they just couldn't get 'em all." –UCNS Rome survivor_

One Turian bomber noses over and launches a torpedo straight at the _Rayyas _Bridge; but at the last possible moment, the massive ship heels over and her new point defense guns blow the torpedo out of the sky.

One near miss in the _Rayyas_ favor, the majority Quarian crew breathes a sigh of relief. But the Turian pilots won't be dissuaded that easily. As the _Rayya_ turns, she exposes herself to another Turian bomber. The pilot unleashes his payload as a Crusader fighter blows him out of the sky. The point defense guns attempt to destroy the missile, but it's too late.

The torpedo punches through the thin shielding and armor plating of the repurposed live ship, blowing a huge hole in the hull. Dozens of sailors are killed in the blast; the _Rayya_ shudders from stem to stern.

Then another squadron of torpedo-bombers swoop in from the rear, finding themselves facing a gauntlet of point defense and anti-aircraft fire and missiles. But it doesn't stop them; these Hierarchy aviators are hell bent on hitting the racing carriers.

One plane is hit with a missile as it approaches the _Qwib Qwib_, but it keeps on coming. The pilot pushes his doomed plane into a dive, and rams his bomber into the massive 'globe' of the _Qwib Qwib._ It scraps all along the hull, tearing through the aged and weakened armor. Oxygen fueled fires race along the modified carrier, scorching the once proud ship.

And the nightmare is only just beginning.

Four Torpedo Bombers survive the rapid fire of the task force guns, two release their torpedoes towards the escort carriers as the AI's frantically try to intercept the ordinance despite being half blind by jammers and debris. The _Warsaw _and _Berlin_ each take a torpedo into their hanger bays, causing chain reactions that obliterate the tiny carriers.

The other two release their torpedoes towards the crippled _Qwib Qwib;_ both of the deadly missiles strike home, tearing massive holes in the hull and collapsing the hastily made hanger bays. Dozens of sailors are crushed to death by the falling decks.

Then the _Gettysburg _takes a Turian round to the engine room, then another into her ammunition stores, destroying yet another escort carrier. One fighter is blasted by anti-aircraft fire, and the panicked Turian pilot swings his plane around and crashes into the _Rome's _bridge, killing all of the command staff.

Another Plane launches a torpedo into the _Qwib Qwib_'sengine room, while another launches its payload into the _Rayya_'s hanger bay. Both missiles strike home, the _Rayya _continues limping towards the _Enterprise'_s portion of the fleet, but the _Qwib Qwib _loses all power and drifts helplessly away from the asteroid belt; she's a sitting duck, the perfect target for the next Torpedo bomber or Turian ship.

She doesn't have to wait long for the next brutal blow.

Another burning Turian torpedo bomber comes wheeling around towards the crippled carrier. Everyone watches as the burning craft passes eerily around the bow and comes screaming in on the port side. For the third time that day, the Confederacy finds itself the victim of a suicide attacker.

* * *

Just 0.2 light minutes away, the _Enterprise _task group emerges from behind the dwarf planet they had entered just 10 minutes before. Every ship present can see the debris, smoke and fire coming from the _Qwib Qwib,_ _Rome _and the _Rayya,_ with no sign of the rest of the carriers.

Instantly, Hackett knows that his fleet is in serious jeopardy; and reacts quickly.

He scrambles all of his fighters into a protective screen, while sending his bombers with minimal escort into the Turian fleet to try and divert their attention away from the crippled carriers.

"_They told us to go, and drop our payloads, then get back to the fleet as fast as we could and shoot down as many Turian planes as we possibly could." -_ _Juna'Shaes_

Lieutenant's 'Shaes and Strong are among the first to arrive back at their carrier from their scouting sweep, and are the first launched back into the black. Within several minutes, the Turian fleet is in sight; but with the _Spirits Fury _nowhere to be seen, to Strong and 'Shaes satisfaction.

The Bombers furiously unleash a hail of torpedoes and smaller missiles; it's payback time.

The lead dreadnaught, the _Hierarchs Defender_ is caught in a storm of torpedoes, the ship breaks into pieces as the impacts of no less than ten torpedoes tear it apart. In minutes, four more Turian dreadnaughts are destroyed or disabled. Eighteen Turian Cruisers are ripped to shreds, while twenty frigates are practically vaporized by the Confederates and the Quarians fury.

Planet side, the Turian space ports are strafed and bombed, rendered completely unusable by any form of spacecraft. But it isn't enough, and it's too late to stop what's coming. Another wave of Turian Torpedo Bombers is already on their way to finish of the remaining carriers. If the Carriers are destroyed or disabled, there will be nothing stopping the Turian fleet from swarming the escorts and destroying them.

Over one hundred twenty bombers swarm the carriers.

The Point defense guns and missiles fire for all their worth; dozens of bombers are blown out of the sky, but it isn't enough. One Bomber survives long enough to release their torpedo; the deadly missile punches through the thin armor and hull of the _Antietam_, and splits in half. One half stays lodged in the port side before detonating and blowing a massive hole in the hull. The second half continues through to the center of the hanger bay and detonates inside, shrapnel slices through parked fighters and bombers and equipment like a shotgun blast, and kills several dozen sailors in the very heart of the ship.

Then the _Waterloo_ takes a torpedo in the ammunition lockers, ripping the ship in half as the torpedoes and bombs tear it apart. The _Stalingrad_ then takes a suicide plane amidships, leaving her crippled and left to drift in space.

Leaving only the _Enterprise_ left to fend for herself; she doesn't have to wait long for her baptism of fire.

One torpedo detonates prematurely, but still tears several holes in the hull from the shrapnel, another torpedo punches clean through the ship and detonates in the third hanger bay, cracking her hull and disabling the aircraft catch and release crane.

The Turian fighters, having dropped their payload, pull back and attempt to retreat to their fleet; their ranks decimated by the point defense guns of the fleet. But what the retreating bombers fail to see are the returning Confederate fighter-bombers, among them are Lieutenant's Juna'Shaes and William Strong.

"_I saw a swarm of the remaining Turian bombers trying to run away, and I could see the fires and the smoke from the _Enterprise_. Someone one time asked me if I was scared that my carrier had been hit; I don't remember being scared I just remember being angry." –Juna'Shaes_

Together, Juna and Strong swoop in below and behind the Turian Bombers. One by one, the two aviators fire their cannons and rip apart the enemy planes. The two pilots each destroy four of the ten escaping bombers for the attacks on their carrier.

Meanwhile, the remains of the Turian bombers form a plan to finish off the _Enterprise_; five Torpedo bombers will approach from the port side, eight from the starboard, five below, and seven above. If everything goes to plan, _Enterprise_ will have nowhere to run.

But any enemy squadron attacking a Confederate carrier can expect a squadron of determined fighters and a screen of furious escorts.

Juna and Strong return to the action, and they immediately spot the danger.

"_I got on the radio and I told the Enterprise exactly what was happening, and the escorts moved to block the bombers from moving in from the top and the starboard sides, but the port and bottom sides had nothing guarding them; so I told Will 'you take the bottom and I take the Port side.'" –Juna'Shaes_

Juna has little ammo left in her 30mm cannons, but she only has to down half of the bombers; the point defense guns and missiles should theoretically take care of the rest.

She swoops in behind the bombers, and blasts the trailing aircraft. The bomber explodes as juna moves onto the next target. This time, the aircrafts main engine sputters out and trails thick black smoke; but it keeps on going.

"_At this point I knew I only had a few rounds left in each gun, and I didn't want to waste it on the same target. So I seriously considered ramming him just to move him off course, but the one of the escorts anti air missiles streaked in and hit the guy dead center, and he exploded. And I thought, 'oh well, guess I only get an assist for that.' So I decided to go for the lead guy this time._

_I trailed him, let the gunsight settle down, and then I fired off the last of my ammo._

_Same thing happened, main engine sputtered out, started trailing thick smoke; but his steering thrusters were still active, and with his momentum he just kept going. I again seriously considered bumping him off course so that there would be no way he could correct it in time and not get ripped to pieces. But as I approached him, I started having serious doubts about it and I thought, 'I don't know if this is a good idea.'" –Juna'Shaes_

Then, the damaged bomber does something nobody can predict, it makes a dive right in front of Juna, and hurtles towards one of the escort ships below.

Thirty kilometers below, the _UCNS Hades Gate,_ has been busy fighting off the seemingly endless waves of bombers and fighters. No one is prepared for what comes next.

"_I watched and I was caught completely off guard as he flipped that thing over into a dive, and I watched him go in and he hit that destroyer, which was the _Hades Gate._" –Juna'Shaes_

The young Quarian watches in horror as dozens of sailors are killed in an instant. But the destroyer keeps on chugging, and keeps up its barrage of point defense guns and 5 inch main battery.

Back with the _Enterprise, _the massive carrier heels left to right, up to down trying to throw off the torpedoes trackers and gain distance from the racing bombers. The port side is now safe, as the remaining two fighters that survived Lt. 'Shaes warpath have already succumbed to the withering firepower of the Confederate fleet. Below, all five of the enemy planes have been blasted apart by Lt. Strong; and above a destroyer and an Anti-Aircraft cruiser have kept the bombers at bay. But on the starboard side, only a lone destroyer escort is keeping them away. Three of the torpedo bombers survive _Enterprise_ and the rest of the fleets flak barrage and launch their torpedoes once they reach the proper range.

_Enterprise _turns away from the threat and maxes out her engines; the torpedoes close on the carrier, then they explode.

The fleet breathes a sigh of relief; the AI's have finally, if only temporarily, broken through the Turian jammers and destroyed the torpedoes with their point defense guns. The few remaining Turian Bombers and fighters, realizing that they no longer have any hope of approaching the fleet again, call it a day.

After four hours of savage combat, the grueling battle is over.

Although battered and wounded, the _Enterprise, Antietam,_ and the _Rayya_ are still moving. The _Stalingrad_, while dead and drifting, is already being towed away from the battle. But she will be out of action for several months; as far as both sides are concerned, the _Stalingrad _is now a nonfactor in the war.

* * *

0.2 light minutes away, the painful ordeal aboard the _Qwib Qwib _and the _Rome _continues. The two carriers are drifting helplessly in space, both having been savaged by missiles, torpedoes, and suicide planes.

The _Rome _is unsalvageable, her engines dead, all forms of controlling the ship destroyed or damaged, and the ship being cheap and easy to replace means that the Cole Protocol is initiated.

"_We all piled into the escape pods, and we had a few wounded onboard, and once everyone was aboard, the pod launched. I was closest to the window and I watched what had been my home for the past year become nothing more than a bright blue fireball…_

_I'm not ashamed to admit that quite a few tears were shed at the loss of our home…" –UCNS Rome survivor._

But the _Qwib Qwib _is a more difficult matter. As a live ship repurposed into a Fleet Carrier, she's much more valuable to the fleet and to the Confederacy's strategic efforts as a whole. Finally, the skipper of the heavy cruiser _UCNS Atlanta _moves in front of the _Qwib Qwib_ and the two ships exchange a series of massive towing wires a foot in diameter.

The Cruiser begins towing the massive live ship at an impressive 4 light-knots towards the relay. Captain Zaal'Koris is now certain that his ship can be saved, all he needs is time. But on board the _Antietam,_ Admiral Hackett struggles to decide what he should do now. He's certain that if the _Rayya, Enterprise, _or the _Antietam _are hit again, they will not make it; and the invasion will be a guaranteed failure with no more carriers to support the fleet.

Hackett has two options, he can stay and continue the battle; risking his carriers and the chances of a successful invasion.

Or he can abandon the _Qwib Qwib,_ and leave the battered carrier and the rest of the invasion force to fend for themselves, even if it's only temporary.

Hackett makes the painful decision to withdraw, leaving the _Qwib Qwib _to an uncertain fate. The Invasion force meanwhile, sets up defensive lines, and starts preparing for an inevitable on slot of warships to try and stop the invasion dead in its tracks.

The three remaining carriers head back to Confederacy space, leaving the _Qwib Qwib _and her remaining escorts to fend for themselves. The Turian fleet continues to watch far outside of both sides effective ranges; but then the _Qwib Qwib's_ crew finally gets the fires under control, and even manages to restart her engines. After everything that she's been through, it looks like the _Qwib Qwib _might be saved after all.

But what the Confederates and Quarians don't know is that the Turians have thrown the last of their fighters and bombers out to finish them off. Out of nowhere, thirty Turian bombers and fighters swarm the fleet; with no fighter screen, and only moving at a fraction of her top speed, and with no point defense or shields the _Qwib Qwib _is helpless.

Then a Turian Bomber launches a torpedo that detonates amidships.

This is the fatal blow; with power once again knocked out, and more bombers swarming the helpless carrier, Captain 'Koris gives the order to abandon ship. Now his crew must desperately guide their escape pods to a friendly ship and pray for rescue. As Captain 'Koris slips into his escape pod, he leaves behind the bodies of over four thousand, Quarians, Humans, and AI's.

Radioing from his headquarters on Reach, Fleet Admiral Adam Eduardovych Bilyk orders the _Qwib Qwib _scuttled. After launching six torpedoes into her, the _Qwib Qwib _breaks apart; and the remainder of the fleet either retreats with the _Rayya, Antietam, _and _Enterprise,_ or regroups with the rest of the invasion fleet in their orbit.

* * *

Aboard the Carriers, the gravity of what's transpired is slow to sink in. Having landed on the _Enterprise,_ Lieutenant Juna'Shaes now finds herself in the middle of the chaos.

"_I sat there and looked around the ruined hanger, I was crying at all the death and destruction around me. There were so many of my friends that were dead. The only one I knew for sure that was still alive was Will, and he had gone to help some wounded to the sick bay._

_Eventually I decided to stop sitting there feeling sorry for myself, and I got up to go see the doctor at the sick bay; to see if there was anything I could do. I was good friends with her, and I walked up to her as she was finishing up with a patient and I said, 'Dr. Chakwas is there anything I can do to help?' _

_And she said, 'Well… you see that marine over there? Just go and sit next to him and talk to him, ask him if there's anything you can do for him.' _

_He was a human, and was very bad burn victim I could see that; he had black skin in many places that were showing through, and was blistering and red everywhere else._

_And… he kept asking for morphine, so I got up and went to the doc; and I told her 'he wants morphine.'_

_Chakwas stood there for a moment and then said, 'well… he's had all that we can give him, but he has less than fifteen minutes to live; so just do what you can.'_

_Well I went back over to him, and I started telling him about my pilgrimage, and his eyes seemed to light up a little bit as I talked; and he started asking questions, and I answered the best I could. But eventually, he just gradually leaned up against me and was gone just like that…_

…_he was only nineteen years old…" –Lt. Cmdr._ _Juna'Shaes_

* * *

"_The loss of the Qwib Qwib is a very serious blow to the Confederacy. We were now down to only two operational Fleet Carriers and one Escort Carrier; and describing the _Enterprise, Rayya, _and the _Antietam _as operational is a very wide stretch at best." –Danial Marshal, Naval Historian_

But while the loss of the _Qwib Qwib,_ almost all the escort carriers, and over a dozen escort ships and the thousands of sailors is a staggering blow to the confederacy; the Turians cannot claim victory.

The majority of their aviation wing, over 350 veteran pilots has been lost to the guns of the invasion fleet; with six dreadnaughts destroyed or damaged, and over three dozen support ships nothing more than floating scrap, these are losses the Turians will not be able to recover in rapid time.

And above all else, they failed to stop the Confederacy from landing and establishing a foot hold on Palaven; and the Turians lack the numbers to drive away the protecting fleet for the time being. But in a matter of days, they will be back; this is just round one in one of the bloodiest campaigns of the war.

**A/N: Ah… it's done, now you guys know why it took so long to get this one out. As of this writing I have already made good progress on the next chapter, and it's shaping up to be just as long as this one. **

**That being said, I will upload this tomorrow (from my point of view, it's currently 11 PM where I am as I type this.) and even if I finish the next chapter by evening tomorrow, you guys will have to wait until next week to see it. Sorry, but I need to give myself a slight buffer between chapters so I have time to catch up on it. **

**I wanted to demonstrate in this chapter that the Turians are not dumb, previous chapters notwithstanding. The Joe Stalin approach only works when you have the reserves to back up the losses. The Turians are realizing that the Confederacy is closing the gap with manpower, and ships; so they have to smarten up their tactics, or else they know they will lose. **

**Well… Insert "I want a TV tropes Page" request here.**

**PM me if you're interested in doing fan art.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	21. 23rd Century Ships, 18th Century Pirates

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… _

_Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 020: Confederacy and Hierarchy Navel Comparisons_

_For the sake of this entry, I will be comparing the respective sizes of the Confederacy and the Hierarchy's naval capacities Before the War, during the Palaven Campaign, and During the Sol Campaign._

**_United Confederacy*...….__Turian Hierarchy_**

_Before the War_

_Fleet Aircraft Carriers: 4...….0_

_Escort Aircraft Carriers: 26...….0_

_Dreadnaughts/Battleships: 14...….42_

_Cruisers (All Classes): 152...….301_

_Destroyers: 171...….292_

_Frigates/Destroyer Escorts: 203...….357_

_Prowlers/U-boats**: 42...….0_

_Total Warships: 612...….992_

*This includes both the Confederacy, and the Quarian fleets that were assigned to help their allies during the war.

_**U-Boats and Prowlers will be counted in the same category due to having the exact same purpose._

_As you can see the Turians did hold the advantage in number of ships, but in terms of diversity in fleet arms the Confederacy was superior. The confederates also had superior tactics and technology in many cases. But the human term "Quantity is a quality in and of itself" rings true here. The Confederacy could not hold back the Turians due to their sheer numbers._

_Palaven Campaign_

_Fleet Aircraft Carriers: 4 (7 UC/R*)...….0 (2 UC/R)_

_Escort Aircraft Carriers: 15 (22 UC/R)...….0 (4 UC/R)_

_Dreadnaughts/Battleships: 6 (10 UC/R)...….24 (13 UC/R)_

_Cruisers (All Classes): 101 (63 UC/R)...….210 (50 UC/R)_

_Destroyers: 107 (92 UC/R)...….182 (82 UC/R)_

_Frigates/Destroyer Escorts: 123 (114 UC/R)...….219 (100 UC/R) _

_Prowlers/U-boats: 102 (30 UC/R)...….0 (20 UC/R**)_

_Total Warships: 458 (338 UC/R)...….635 (271 UC/R)_

_*UC/R: Under Construction/Repair. In the case of the confederacy, it was mostly construction since confederacy ships would rarely survive to be towed back to the repair yards. The Turians were the opposite, their ships often could make back to friendly ports, but they would be put out of action for months._

_**The Hierarchy had begun construction of their stealth Frigates, and fall under the Prowler/U-Boat Classification._

_As you can see, by this point in the war both sides are running low on ships. The Confederacy, on top of policing their space has to slow down the Hierarchy from attacking more worlds. The Hierarchy in contrast has to keep the incursions they have made supplied and defended, they have to patrol Council Space, they have to patrol the Batarian and Terminus borders, and with the start of the Palaven campaign they now have to defend their own worlds._

_Another point I would highlight, is the respective races industrial capabilities. As I noted earlier, the confederacy would have two new ships under construction for every one damaged that managed to return to friendly space. The Turians would have one ship under construction for every two that made it back. _

_You can see that by this point the Confederacies industry is now beginning to surpass the Turians. This exemplifies both sides respective strategies when it comes to war. The Turians prefer lightning strikes and overwhelming fire power to deal with their enemies. _

_The Confederacy in contrast prefers to let a war drag on as long as possible, and bleed their enemies dry through attrition while their industry warms itself up and begins to start replacing more ships than they lose. _

_It is only because of more open minded and adaptable commanders like Admiral Pompepilia Isarius was the Turian Hierarchy able to wage the war for as long as it did. _

_Logging off…_

* * *

**Palaven Orbit **

October 4th 2233, 1:48 AM

Confederate Anti-Aircraft Cruiser _UCNS Cheyenne_ patrols the space close to the orbit of the Turian home world.

The _UCNS Antietam, Rayya_ and the _Enterprise_ have been out of action for over five weeks; and with all of the other Fleet and Escort Carriers in the invasion force destroyed or down for the count, these smaller ships must now face the enemy alone.

The _Cheyenne_ has sent her fair share of Turian fighters and bombers to the hunting grounds of hell; but tonight she's stalking hierarchy warships, one of over one hundred Confederate vessels on the prowl for an enemy force of Destroyers, Dreadnaughts, and Cruisers.

Two massive naval groups are about to collide in a terrific clash of steel. But what the crew of the _Cheyenne_ doesn't know is that they are already in the crosshairs of the enemy.

Just .002 light minutes away, the Turian dreadnaught _Sailors Spirit_ and the heavy cruiser _Palavens Faith_ close in for an ambush. ECM jammers deployed by both sides practically leaving both fleets blind as they close on each other.

Then at almost point blank range they flood the _Cheyenne_ with ECM, computer viruses, and rapid fire pings from their sensors; and open fire with their main batteries. The _Cheyenne_ opens up with every gun she has as both fleets, up to this point having been spread out across the system trying to find the other, jump to their respective comrades to lend their assistance.

The battle is on.

"_Before both sides knew it, thanks to the massive amount of debris already gathered in that area of space and due to all the ECM units deployed by both sides, both sides find themselves intermingled into each other's formations and are now firing at each other." –Robert Leaply_

Practically muzzle to muzzle, these 23rd century ships battle like 18th century human pirates; but modern cannon is far more lethal. Shells and tracers streak across space, illuminating the Palaven night sky. The ships are filled with the sounds of their cannons firing, slamming steel, and the cries of the wounded.

The _Cheyenne_ gives her all in the violent firefight; launched in 2229, the _Cheyenne_ is 552 feet of killing power. She bristles with twenty-two 5 inch rifles, eight quad-mount 40mm automatic guided anti-aircraft guns, and six 44 inch torpedo tubes.

And right now, _Cheyenne_ has no shortage of enemy targets, her torpedoes knife through space towards three enemy cruisers, her forward 5 inchers blow shells at four enemy destroyers, while her after battery aims for the sensor pings of the _Palavens Faith_ and cuts loose.

But the _Cheyenne_ is getting it back from all sides.

To the left, she's hit by a storm of Turian torpedoes that annihilate her forward engine rooms and ammunition stores. And on the right, in the confusion of battle one of her fellow cruisers lobs three 8 inch projectiles into two of her aft five inch gun emplacements. Dozens of sailors are killed in the salvo.

The _Cheyenne_ cannot escape the hell storm.

* * *

As the sun rises over the trenches on Palaven, things look bad for the Confederate fleet. Friday the 4th could be the initial invasion, all over again.

* * *

**Flashback; five weeks earlier**

The _Antietam, Rayya, Stalingrad _and_ Enterprise_ take a serious pounding in the First Battle of Palaven; all four have taken serious damage to their hulls and hanger bays from Turian torpedoes. It's a miracle that they are still operational in any capacity.

One week later, they limp into the navy repair yards over Reach.

Crews immediately begin working around the clock to repair the damaged carriers. These are the only carriers left in the invasion force that can be spared, and the key to maintaining naval superiority in Turian space.

"_After we had lost all of the other carriers in the First Battle of Palaven, we were the only carriers left not occupied with defending Confederacy space. _

_Sailors and Marines were posting signs all over the ships, 'Enterprise vs. the Galaxy' 'Antietam will break our chains' 'The Rayya brought us life, she will bring Turians death' and 'Stalingrad makes Mother Russia Proud.'" –Lt. Cmdr. Juna'Shaes_

But right now these carriers are in no shape for fighting, and the Hierarchy is eager to strike. The epicenters of their hostilities are the Turian Home world of Palaven, and the Confederate Mega-Colony of Shanxi.

Turian and Confederate forces are waging a war of attrition on these planets, each trying to bleed the other to death. On Palaven, the 1st Marine division has set up an airfield known as "Adair Field" after the captain of the _River Styx_ from the Battle of Yankee Station; and they're using it to maintain air superiority on Palaven in the absence of carriers. Miles of trenches have been dug all over the planet, but the Confederates are hanging on by their fingernails.

"_The initiative really lies with the Turians at this point; They have Destroyed the _Qwib Qwib,_ they have badly damaged the _Enterprise _and the _Rayya,_ yet they still have the forces they need to bring the fight to Palaven. _

_The Confederate industry has finally caught up to the Turians, and they are beginning to produce more ships that are being lost, but the Turians still outnumber them; and its taking time to get these new units battle ready, so the Confederacy is really scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point." –Robert Leaply_

As the Carriers undergo repairs, and the two fleets seesaw back and forth across the Turian home system and Shanxi; Turian Admiral Pompepilia Isarius, mastermind of the invasion of Shanxi and the Defense of Palaven, hatches a plan to knock the Confederates off of Palaven once and for all.

A Fleet of over two hundred vessels will make their way to Palaven split into five groups, each taking their own relay network. These ships will run the gauntlet of U-Boats and Prowlers strategically blockading the entrances into the system.

Ten transport ships carrying a total of over two hundred thousand fresh troops from the Batarian border will make their way through the main relay. Covering them will be Five Dreadnaughts, twenty Cruisers, and over thirty destroyers and frigates.

In addition to attacking the Confederate fleets in the system, these ships will bombard Confederate positions in hopes of destroying any defenses they have built.

"_The Turian metal heads had decided they were going to commit all they had to one final push, to destroy the Confederates Marine divisions. Annihilate them, destroy them; push them off Palaven, and press on into Confederacy space. _

_This invasion had stopped their advance dead, and both sides were committing everything they could spare to this campaign. The Systems the Turians had invaded were now being slowly taken back by the Confederacy. But if we failed here, there was nothing stopping the Turians from continuing their assault._

_And there would be nothing stopping them from destroying our new homes in Quarian Provisional Space." –Juna'Shaes_

"_The stakes were very high at this point, this was the culmination of the war" –Adm. Rael'Zorah_

As the two sides prepare to engage each other again in open warfare; the bloody climax of the past two years of brutal fighting is about to be reached. And the Carriers are sitting on the sidelines, their crews working around the clock to get them back into the fight.

* * *

**Flash-forward; Palaven, October 4****th**

The vanguard of the Turian fleet has entered the system, and the cruiser _Cheyenne _is about to be in the battle of her life.

In the predawn darkness planet side, the fleet runs right into the guns of the _Cheyenne _and the rest of the Confederate search and destroy fleet patrolling near Palaven. Like battling pirate ships, the two fleets pound each other from point blank range; and the cruiser _Cheyenne _is caught in the firestorm.

White steel lightning arcs across space, as slugs and giant orange tracer's fire into the night; Turian and Confederate warships savage each other with volleys of Slugs, Shells, Torpedoes, and Lasers in Palavens orbit.

Hit by the direct fire of no less than eight Confederate ships, the Heavy Cruiser _Palavens Faith_ is ripped to pieces. The Confederate destroyers _Anubis' Scale, _and _Osiris' Coffin_ close to within only a few hundred kilometers of the dreadnaught _Sailors Spirit_ and rake her gun crews with five inch shells, and unleash a hail of Torpedoes into the unfortunate ships port side.

Groundside, from their respective trenches Confederate Marines and Turian Soldiers watch the epic battle unfold; it goes on for hours.

"_We were watching our ships and the Human Fleet fight it out in an all-out fight for the first time since the campaign had begun. Up until that point all of the battles had been small, only a few dozen vessels at most; But there were easily over two to three hundred ships in orbit blasting away at each other._

_I saw that there were quite a number of militia men and a few soldiers had stepped out of their trenches to get a better view of the battle. I made to reprimand them, but then I saw the strangest thing; there were humans doing the same from their trenches. They all had their gazes upward, and I couldn't bring myself to end this temporary truce for the sake of a good shot._

_We sat and watched the battle all night. Ironically it was the first peaceful night I had in a month." –Spectre Nihlus Kryik_

"_All we could do was watch, as our fleets slugged it out. I saw the Turians getting out of their trenches to get a better view, but I didn't think much of it. I think we were all tired of this war, and just wanted some peace and quiet. I only watched the battle for a few hours, before I kicked back in my hovel and fell asleep. Let me tell you it was the best sleep I had that month." –Sgt. Major Hannah Shepherd._

"_One of the Surviving naval officers described it with a particular human idiom, 'It was a barroom brawl after the lights had been turned off.' And with the amount of debris and jammers we encountered when we finally arrived, that's exactly what it was for all intents and purposes." –Adm. Rael'Zorah_

Many citadel journalists, having already been in system to cover the invasion, captures the epic battle; and billions of people all across the galaxy watch live as the two forces tear each other apart with brutal desperation.

* * *

Dawn reveals the scene of an apocalypse; the space surrounding Palaven is filled with wrecked ships, debris, and mutilated remains. Tens of Thousands of sailors including One Turian and Two Confederate Admirals have been slaughtered in one of the bloodiest naval gun battles of the war.

Throughout the morning in the aftermath, a Confederate Prowler and several Turian naval tugboats patrol the cluttered space and debris, rescuing survivors. Most enemy survivors are left to die in their escape pods.

Among the casualties of October 4th is the Quarian Heavy Cruiser _QDF Kedoma, _due to a Turian dreadnaught main battery slug detonating her reactor core. The ship is lost with all hands, including the three 'Reegar triplets.

"_Up until that point, the Confederacy had been rather lenient regarding the new Quarian Defense Fleets internal affairs. 'A married couple? So long as they don't have children, we don't see any problem with having them on the same ship.'_

_Similar thing happened with my Dad, Aunt, and Uncle with the _Kedoma.

_After their deaths, the Confederacy really put its foot down regarding matters like this; because they knew that it would happen again if they didn't stamp it down while they still could. Too late for my dad and his siblings; but it's for the better I think… that their deaths were used to prevent another family from going through what my mother and I had to." –Major Kal'Reegar_

The morning of October 4th is one of the darkest moments for the Confederacy during the entire war.

The grim tally; The Cruisers _UCNS Cheyenne, QDF Kedoma,_ and sixteen other cruisers are destroyed.

The _Anubis' Scale_ and forty-three destroyers and destroyer escorts are wiped out.

fourty additional Confederate and Quarian ships are damaged.

And over 30,000 Humans, AI's, and Quarians have perished. Once again the Confederate navy has had to pay a horrible price to hold Palaven for another day. But the Turians once again cannot claim victory.

One Dreadnaught, the _Hierarchy's Might,_ is destroyed while another, the _Sailors Spirit_ is crippled and left to drift.

They lose close to thirty cruisers, and over fifty destroyers and frigates.

And close to fifty more are severely damaged.

Approximately 31,000 Turians have lost their lives; and in the end, the Turians are once again forced to retreat from the battlefield. The Marine landings on Palaven are untouched, and General Williams has begun to slowly press outwards from his landing zones; and the Confederacy is closing on the Turian capital.

Both sides are crippled, but still standing. All either side needs is one push.

**A/N: I hope this was worth the wait. Sorry for the really long codex guys, but I decided to finally address the Fleet sizes of the Turians and the Confederacy; you don't want to know how much of a bastard it was to get it properly formatted in word, then reformatted in Doc board; the whole reason I used periods for spacing is because the stupid website doesn't allow you to use the "tab" key, and it doesn't remember you using "space" more than once when you save it.**

**AND IT STILL DIDNT SAVE THE FORMAT. What you see right now is what you get cause I refuse to try and fix the formatting again.**

**The 'Reegar triplets are of course a reference to the fic "Project Delta," it's really good and you should give it a read; but it's a doorstopper so you better have time to spare.**

**Surprisingly, beyond the number of Dreadnaughts postwar I wasn't able to find any official documentation of the actual size of the Turian Fleets, so I kind of had to guess at the number of ships in each class.**

**You notice the only group of ships to go up in any meaningful way is the Prowler/U-Boat category. The amount of Prowlers didn't go up that much, but the U-Boats are augmenting their numbers. The ration of Prowlers to U-Boats is 1:2.**

**One thing I'm trying to show is that while both sides are taking very serious hits from this war, the Confederacy can afford it while the Hierarchy can't. You can see this by the fact the Confederacy is already starting to out produce the Hierarchy in only a year and a half, almost two years of war. In the last chapter, it was pointed out the Turians lost over 350 experienced pilots, the cream of their aviation wing. **

**That's a very serious blow because unlike the confederacy, who send any successful pilot "stateside" to train more pilots to fly like them, and who have experienced pilots from New Athens that are on the frontlines; the Turians just lost almost all of their best pilots. Their doctrine focuses on battleships, not carriers; so they didn't have many good pilots to begin with. Admiral Isarius is trying to shift that doctrine to match the Confederacy, but without proper training any pilots they send are just cannon fodder.**

**Ugh…**

**Vacation was nice, but you know that feeling that you need to get away from your family because you've spent too much time together? Yeah that's what I'm feeling right now. **

**Alright enough about me…**

**Obligatory "I want a TV Tropes page" goes here.**

**PM if you're interested in doing Fanart.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	22. A Concession too Far

**October 5****th****, 2233; The Citadel, Council Chambers**

"Isarius tried her hardest, but she was unable to break the Confederacies lines over Palavens orbit. No thanks to those AI's." Councilor Sparatus raged while Jahee and Tevos enjoyed tea from where they sat.

"Casualty reports?" Tevos asked Sparatus.

"Two dreadnaughts, Thirty-three Cruisers, Twenty-eight Destroyers, and Thirty Frigates destroyed. Fifty additional ships have been damaged and require repairs in dry dock." Sparatus replied, calming himself somewhat.

"Very little information from Confederacy; Carriers still being repaired, fifty ships estimated destroyed in battle, a little less than fifty estimated to be damaged. The Confederacy has not been dislodged from Palaven. They are starting to win Sparatus." Jahee rambled on, listing off what little data they had managed to gather.

Tevos sighed and leaned back; the Matriarchs were breathing down her neck to resolve the conflict so the Turians and the Humans didn't advance in their technology, lest the republics be forced to break into the vault.

"_This will embolden them in the negotiations, Sparatus._" Benezia warned over the video call from where she was stationed in the Human city called "Warsaw."

The Turian snorted, "Bah! As if a race that consorts and mates with AI's would be willing to listen anyway." He spat.

Tevos shook her head sadly, while Benezia recalled her first meeting with the leaders of the Confederacy.

* * *

_**August 30**__**th**__**, 2233; The **_**Volkshalle **

"_You seem unsettled Matriarch." Captain McHale noted as the _Nyx's Chariot_ landed on the landing pad near the courtyard of the _Volksalle. _Benezia looked at the massive structure, where only one part of the human government lay._

_The building was intimidating to say the least, it was as if all of humanity was glaring down at her and judging her actions. She shivered slightly after glancing at the temperature readings, conveniently translated into Thessian for her. _

_Humans preferred colder climates apparently._

"_I am just curios to meet your President is all; I know next to nothing about him, or anyone of your government for that matter." She replied._

_Nox opened her mouth to say something, but McHale shot her a look and she clammed up and looked down. "No matter, he's an understanding man. But you must know that he cannot accept any treaty you propose; only congress can." He stated, before walking to the launch ramp of the Prowler._

_Benezia narrowed her eyes but said nothing. From what the Salarians could gather, and from what Benezia understood from her "conversations" with Nox; McHale was normally a happy, fun, go-lucky kind of man most of the time. He must have really not liked her presence on his ship._

_The Ramp opened and a blast of air made Benezia shiver; _yes, they definitely prefer colder climates _she thought upon seeing McHale not even flinch from the cool air. Four people stood at the bottom of the ramp, all wore black suits of some kind, and black glasses that covered their eyes._

"_Matriarch Benezia?" One asked._

_She nodded; He held up a badge, "Agent Alec Henderson, United Confederate Secret Service. If you and your diplomatic team will follow us please; Captain, you are free to do as you please for the next three days while your Prowler is refitted."_

_Benezia and her team wasted no time leaving the Prowler, and as soon as they were off the ramp started closing with a loud hiss. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she heard McHale say, "Good riddance." _

_All of them gaped at the _Volkshalle,_ but said nothing as the agents led them inside the wing beside the massive dome._

_The halls were all white; the red carpet plush without any specks of dirt on it, and various paintings lined the walls. She read the names of some of them thanks to her translation software. _Defense of Warsaw,Siege of Baltimore, Super Eights Final Victory;_ the last one interested her most due to the eight aircraft pictured flying in formation over a ninth off a different design falling out of the sky in flames. She had heard the President used to be an Air Force Pilot, and was curious to hear any stories about him._

_They came to a closed door, and the agents opened it up; and the gestured for Benezia to enter the room._

_She quickly took in the three humans that occupied the room; one male stood next to a window, pale skin, fur on his upper lip and chin, short black hair, and he wore a black coat that reached to the back of his knees with a black broad brimmed hat with a gold trim. He was smoking something, it had a sweet smell to it; and the way he held it told her that he was a dedicated smoker._

_The second male had no fur on his head, or on his face. He was dark skinned, and had wrinkles that suggested a more advanced age. He also wore a black coat, but it had gold buttons, and it reached only to his thighs and was split down the middle. She could also make out a sort of… Corset for males? She couldn't tell._

_The last was a female, who stood next to a large clock and was holding and reading something from a pad. She wore something more akin to a uniform that looked like a hybrid of what the second male wore, and the first. Her sash was what caught Benezia's attention, white with a blue border, and a gold six pointed star near the shoulder area._

_The hatted male spotted her first._

"_Ah. Ambassador it is an honor to receive you here at the 'Peoples Chamber.' Please have a seat, all of you I insist." He said, giving her a wide smile; then he took another drag from whatever he was smoking. _

_Benezia sat at the opposite end of the table, as the old man stood and set down some papers he was reading. The others sat awkwardly around the table while the Justicars remained standing, shadowed closely by the Secret Service agents. "Matriarch Benezia T'Soni, I am The Prime Minister of Congress Dayananda Singh." He said warmly, having an almost grandfatherly sort of appearance and mannerism._

"_To my left is The President of the People Johnathon Grant." Grant tipped his hat to them and said nothing._

"_To my right is Her Excellency the Chancellor of Nations Ayelet Isaaman." The woman bowed her head and said something Benezias translation packet didn't pick up, "_Shalom._"_

"_We represent the United Confederacy, a Democratic Republic made up of hundreds of Nation-States. Let us get one thing out of the way; we are not authorized to ratify any sort of treaty, only a two thirds majority in congress can. Any agreements we reach here are in no way final as congress can override or renegotiate certain sections of any treaty and send it back to us to give to you. Am I clear in that regard?" Singh asked._

_Benezia nodded, "Can you at least negotiate a truce, or a temporary cessation of hostilities?" _

"_Only I can and I will only accept if the terms of the truce are reasonable." Grant answered. _

_Benezia nodded again, not letting her irritation show. This government had been built for inaction it seemed. "Very well, may I ask for a temporary cessation of hostilities then Mr. President?" she asked_

_Grant placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, "What are your terms."_

"_Immediate halt of all military action, and complete withdrawal from Hierarchy space." She stated._

"_Denied." Grant replied coldly._

_Benezia blinked, she had given rather generous terms all things considered. Her confusion must have crossed her face despite her best efforts, since the Chancellor decided to elaborate. "You are asking us to give up any strategic or tactical advantage we have in exchange for a temporary truce? All the while the Turians continue to rampage across dozens of planets within our space? I am sorry but those are unacceptable to us." She said._

_Benezia gave a slow nod, and then looked around. "I must ask, where are your representatives for Spirits?" she asked only just now realizing it was only humans in the room._

_Grant gave a slow nod, "And that is the second reason why your terms are unacceptable to us. Any treaty requiring us to abide by certain Council laws would be unacceptable to us in fact. Do you want to know why? Our 'spirits' are not spirits at all." _

_Benezia shifted uncomfortably, "Why would that be a problem Mr. President?"_

"_Because you outlaw any and all AI in Citadel Space, in any space for all practical intents and purposes; and it would not due when all the 'Spirits' in the Confederacy, a third of the population I must emphasize, are in actuality AI's." Grant stated, not blinking once._

_There was a beat, and then the Justicars began to charge their biotics. The agents all put their hands on their guns, while the three leaders of the Confederacy glared at the Asari._

_Benezia was quick to recover from her shock, and quickly waved down the Justicars; "Peace sisters." She turned back to Singh, "I… I must consult with the council regarding this development." _

_Singh nodded, he grabbed a pad and slid it down the long wooden table. "That is an apartment complex owned by the government. You have our permission to set up an Embassy there. If you wish to talk to us, I will be here in Warsaw. Grant will be at the White House in Washington D.C, and Isaaman will be at the Chancellery in Berlin. Come back to us when you wish to discuss terms of an armistice, or hopefully a treaty."_

* * *

**Present day; Asari/Salarian Embassy, Warsaw**

Looking back, it had been idiotic of her to try and pressure the executive into such unfavorable terms. She should have taken a temporary ceasefire with no terms while she had the chance. But the AI's had taken her off guard; and she felt she needed to advise the Council on the matter.

Now Palaven was in serious danger of falling, the Turians were being ground down; and the Confederate industry was rapidly accelerating and outpacing the Turians. At the rate they were going, they would even outpace the Asari.

The more Benezia thought about it, the more she realized subverting these peoples economies would be essentially impossible. Among other things, they had laws in place preventing monopolies from forming; chief among them being that no one group can own all of one industry.

And these people were smart; she had little doubts they would realize what was going on and immediately counteract it. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion that they knew what the Asari had been doing to the rest of the Council races.

Grant In one meeting had subtly threatened that if the Asari tried to manipulate the Confederacies economy so as to subvert it, the Confederacy would retaliate tenfold and crash the Asari's economy with no survivors, metaphorically speaking. He hadn't said that directly of course, but the implication was there.

Tevos had looked ready to break the screen when Benezia had told her that in a private session.

Sparatus of course was livid over the matter of the AI's. "We need to execute every single AI we take! They are a threat and not true sentient beings!" He had proclaimed.

Jahee had reprimanded him by pointing out the obvious fact that the Confederacy would start executing prisoners and stop taking any in retaliation. But the damage was done in that regard; the true identity of the "Spirits" had spread like wildfire, and many in the Hierarchy were subtly starting to grow more unhinged over the war.

Many of the other Council races were growing restless as well.

The Confederacy passing a non-aggression pact with the other members of the Council had sated the fear and unease somewhat. And the promise by the President that Wolfpacks would no longer attack Turian forces in other members space had put people at ease as well.

"Sparatus… its time, we must start cease fire talks with these people. That does not mean you should give up and throw down your arms, but we must start talking in the very least." Tevos finally said.

The Turian said nothing for a few minutes, and then reluctantly nodded his head.

Tevos turned to Benezia, "Matriarch, tell the Executive that we will be sending a Turian Diplomat to your embassy in Warsaw to begin cease fire talks. Make sure you emphasize that this does not mean there is a cessation of hostilities." She instructed.

Benezia pursed her lips but said, _"Of course Councilors good day."_ As she closed the channel, she knew that this would be a futile gesture. The Confederate people were hounding for blood, and the Turians were too stubborn to quit now. The best case scenario was that they sign an armistice after a few years of debate.

This was going to be a long next few years.

**A/N: This is gonna be a long authors note guys. I'll talk about this chapter, but I have something more important to share with you.**

**A black, female, lesbian James Bond… A BLACK, FEMALE, LESBIAN JAMES BOND!**

**WHAT THE FUCK!? I refuse to believe I am the only one who has a problem with this. Bonds whole character is a smooth talking, badass, womanizer. What the fuck are they thinking; they've established 007 is a legacy character in the past, so someone else playing the character is not my problem. In fact if they had gotten someone like Idris Elba to play the next Bond after Daniel Craig was done, I would have been very interested to see how it played out.**

**I'm frustrated because they have straight up said that the next James Bond film has this character, which is fucking over Daniel Craig who is my favorite bond next to Sean Connery. Skyfall is one of my favorite films of all time. **

**AAAAGH!**

**Alright, this chapter; if this seems to be lower quality just know the first three drafts were even worse. I couldn't really think of a better way to write this. I'll probably go back to boots on the ground, or sailors in space for the remainder of the book since I'm better at that. I'll only break that rule at the end when peace is close to breaking out. **

**The next two years of the war are going to play out like Korea. Both sides talking peace while duking it out to gain a leg up in the negotiations. Ah Politics…**

**Ok, leave a review as always.**

**PM if you desire to do Fan Art. I really would like a TV Tropes page.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	23. Infiltration, Evasion, and Escape

**January 3****rd****, 2234; Reach Orbital Shipyards**

"Hey Edwards, come check this out."

Private 1st Class Paul Edwards jerked his head up from his security console and turned to look at the Sailor manning another sensor station. The Marine grudgingly stood up and walked over to the other man's station.

"What is it?" He asked impatiently.

"I don't know, something keeps tripping the perimeter alarm, but I don't see anything on any spectrum except for a few birds." The sailor reported.

Edwards gave a mental sigh; this was why he hated having to share his station with swabbies. Security was a Marine matter, and this dumb ass didn't recognize a false alarm. To be fair, he had that happen a few times as well; damned crows were doing it on purpose.

It was funny how crows could survive on pretty much any planet they were brought to. Nowadays bringing any non-native animals to any planet, terraformed or not, was heavily regulated. It was one of the few issues where the central government put its foot down.

"Alright, reset it, no sense in calling it in. Look at the cams, nothing; the only thing that would fool it would be IAA agents, and I don't want to get involved with those fucking spooks thank you very much." Edwards instructed.

_Clang!Clang!_

Two knocks on the hatch, alerted them both. Edwards grumbled unhappily, probably some officer coming by to make sure they were doing their jobs. He walked over and opened the hatch, "Yes sir?" He asked seeing a lieutenant standing by the door.

The man was sweating, and looked nervous. _Why? I'm not an NCO._ He thought.

"I really am sorry about this private." He said.

"What-" He started.

"Embrace Eternity" A harsh whisper sounded behind him, and Edwards knew no more.

* * *

Saren dumped the three dead humans in the corner, having seen no use in keeping them alive once he and the other two Spectres were done with them. "I did not see the point in killing them, we told them we would let them live." Tela Vasir grumbled.

"Potential for raising alarm too great. Liability if left alive." Jondum Bau replied.

"Did you get any information on the route to the _Enterprise_?" Saren asked, deciding to get them back onto the task at hand.

"Yes, several decks down." She replied, pushing the matter away for the moment.

"Let's go." Bau stated.

As the three Spectres snuck through the station, Saren couldn't help but think about the importance of their mission. Both sides had ground each other's fleets into essentially nothing, and the Confederates were desperately trying to get the _Enterprise _back up to fleet readiness to get them the leg up they needed in the negotiations. With the Asari and Salarians officially neutral, having signed a non-aggression pact with the humans and AI's, Saran had a tough time convincing his fellow Spectres to follow him on this mission.

So far though it had been laughably easy; the savages didn't even wear armor when on board ships or shipyards.

He shuddered slightly, as much as he didn't want to admit it; the savages were smart in politics. They had broadcasted publicly that they were willing to accept and host an ambassador of any species from the citadel, and that they didn't have to be represented by just the three council races.

That of course got many of the council races grumbling and muttering; yes the humans were right, why couldn't they send envoys of their own? _Because lesser races such as yours can't handle negotiating with savages._ He thought to himself.

If they succeeded, they would set the confederacy back by several weeks, and damage their prestige. This was going to be like a walk through the presidium.

* * *

Agent August Colt walked out of the armory, his stealth cloak flapping; Major David Anderson and Captain Alice Resnick close behind him. _It's almost like the start of a bad joke. An IAA agent, a Ghost, and a Spartan walk into a bar. _He thought.

"August, you know that the Turians have stopped taking AI prisoners now that they know the truth. Think we should do the same?" Alice asked him, her violet light dimming somewhat at the thought of her brethren being killed.

"Of course, Fuckers think they can get away with this kind of thing. Ha! Kill 'em all I say." Colt replied without hesitation.

"Now hold on; it's horrible their killing AI's, but we can't stoop to their level. Revenge is a sin." Anderson protested. Alice said nothing in reply, probably digesting their answers.

Colt resisted the urge to snort. Frankly he could care less about these lesser races; who cared what they thought, all that mattered was putting them in their place and making sure they knew who was in charge.

They said nothing as they continued walking to the _U-058_.

Colt blinked, a bit of red showed up in his motion tracker, then vanished. He hit the side of his mask to make sure it wasn't a glitch, and the three red appeared again. _Shit._ "Anderson, raise the security office; tell them to check this section for possible infiltrators." He ordered.

If the two were confused by his order, they didn't show it; after a few seconds Anderson reported that he was just getting a looped automated response.

Colt cursed and sprinted to the Security office, Anderson and Alice close behind. Alice clapped her hands, and her armor, shield, and spear appeared on her body, while Anderson pulled out his SMG from his stealth cloak.

Colt burst into the office, seeing no one at their post; he raised his pistol and swept the room, while Anderson covered the door. Alice scanned the room, accessing the camera systems remotely to try and piece together what happened.

Colt couldn't find anything, and sat down in the chair, slightly confused.

_Drip._

Something dripped in front of him onto the grate; Colt leaned forward to get a better look at it. _Blood,_ he realized; and slowly looked up. Sure enough, there were three bodies stuffed into the roof, blood dripping out of the wounds that killed them.

Colt wordlessly reached over, and hit the intruder alert button on the desk. _These aliens are going to die._ He promised himself.

* * *

Saren cursed as alarms blared throughout the station. "We've been discovered; no way are we making it to the _Enterprise_ now." He growled.

"We can still salvage mission, damage repair station, delays repairs on _Enterprise _by proxy." Bau exclaimed.

"Stealth Frigate can't pick us up; they'll get blown away if we try to call them in." Vasir informed them.

"Then we go to them; Split up! We each plant explosives in a different area and secure our own rides. Meet you back at the frigate." Saren ordered, taking off in one direction; while his fellow Spectres went the other way. He rushed through the station, ducking into alcoves and hiding in the roof whenever he heard someone coming. He did have to kill a few marines, but he didn't care. If they wanted to live, they shouldn't have tried to stop him.

He reached a dimly lit hanger, which contained several fighters; and had a huge door that doubtlessly led out into space. Deciding to try and decompress the area, Saren planted charges on the giant hanger door. He then rushed to each fighter, setting an explosive charge on small things; like the landing gear, or the cockpit. He made sure to leave the last one alone, since it was his ride out of the place.

He didn't notice the hatch leading into the hanger open.

He did notice the suppressed rounds slamming into his shielded back however.

Saren swore and immediately took cover behind one of the fighters. He froze, listening; nothing… Then he heard the slightest tapping noise, like rubber boots.

Saren whipped out of cover and sprayed the area he heard the noise. The cloaked human cursed and jumped out of the line of slugs and hid behind another fighter. Saren aimed his rifle at the humans cover, waiting for him to peek his head out.

Nothing.

Saren moved as quickly, and as quietly as he could from cover to cover; eventually reaching the humans hiding spot. He took a breath, then whipped around, finger on the trigger. The human was gone.

_Shit…_ he realized.

He heard the sound of rubber boots behind him, and Saren moved as fast as he could; firing slugs everywhere. One caught the human in the chest, the other his gun. The human ducked and punched Saren in the chest with one hand while whipping out a knife with the other. He slashed several times as Saren frantically tried to gain distance on the human to allow himself room to fire.

He kicked the human in the face, and the human grunted while doing a backflip to bleed off energy and keep his balance. He ducked behind cover and vanished again before Saren could line up a shot.

Saren cursed again, it was a game of Krogan and Vorcha now. The question was which was which.

* * *

Colt knew that Anderson could handle a lone Turian, which was why he had sent the Ghost to deal with it.

He could handle an Asari pretty well; Aria now being a Confederate puppet had proven that. But he had no idea what to expect from a Salarian, which was why he had sent Alice to handle him. The Spartan had subdued Patriarch while he fought Aria, so she could probably handle it.

He reached the room the Asari was in, and waited; activating his stealth system. He walked in, making sure not to move too fast and cause a shimmer. The Asari was setting explosives on the stations aircraft crane, which moved and loaded aircraft onto ships that had the capacity to carry them.

He brought his pistol up and fired, rounds slamming into the Asari's biotic shield.

He immediately ducked into cover as his cloak struggled to keep up with the sudden movements. The Asari threw a biotic ball of energy at where his shots had come from, but not at his cover; much to his relief.

He waited until she looked away before firing again.

He cursed as her biotics stopped his attempts to kill her again, and he rolled behind a huge I-beam as she warped the cover he had just abandoned. He knew this was unsustainable for both of them, he would eventually run out of cover and ammo, and the Asari would run out of biotic power; the question was which hit their limit first.

_Can't let her hit me, one hit from that will kill me._ He reminded himself.

He counted to three, keeping an eye on his motion tracker; then whipped out of cover, charging the Asari as he emptied his pistol into her biotic shields. The Asari snarled as her shields failed, and tried to draw her own rifle.

She failed to account for the speed at which Colt was moving.

He smacked her rifle away from his chest and drew his knife from his shoulder holster, slashing her hand and forced her to let the rifle go. He kicked the rifle off the ledge and into the void below the crane. She retaliated by grabbing his arm and punched his hand, forcing him to drop the pistol; which she quickly kicked over the edge, following her lost rifle into the bay.

The Asari ducked under another knife slash as she punched Colt in the gut, while rapidly following up with something akin to a haymaker. He blocked both blows while head-butting her, breaking the Asari's nose. She growled and kicked him in the crotch; which would have worked, had he not had his armor on.

He ignored the injustice of such an underhanded blow, and slashed her chest while retaliating with a kidney punch. The slash created a rip in her armor, but otherwise did nothing. The kidney punch was not stopped however, and produced an audible crack.

The Asari howled, and punched him in the throat while pushing him away with a weakened biotic shove.

Colt choked and instinctively grabbed his throat as he slammed into the bulkhead. He shook his head, ignoring the ringing in his ears as he tried to find the Asari. He saw her fleeing towards a nearby fighter, and realized that was how she intended to get away. He looked around and couldn't find any weapon in sight; and out of a desperate desire to stop her from getting away, he committed a rookie mistake by throwing his knife at her back.

It worked better than it should have.

The knife buried itself in the back of her leg, almost up to the hilt; the Asari's armor doing little to stop it. The Asari screamed, but didn't stop running; yanking the knife out of her leg. She climbed into the cockpit, and gave him a furious glare. The Asari used her biotics one final time, and levitated his knife out of her hand, and threw his knife as straight as an arrow with her biotics.

His knife buried itself up to the hilt into his shoulder, his armor only managing to slow it down.

Colt howled and stumbled backward, but kept moving towards the Asari intruder; and drew another knife from his back holster. He glared at the Asari, as she glared at him.

He was too late.

The cockpit sealed shut, hissing as it pressurized; and the catapult launched it into the black. He tried his comms, but found that their fight had broken the transmitter. He cursed as he stumbled and leaned against the bulkhead while glaring at his own knife buried in his shoulder.

"Yeah you better run you tentacle faced bitch." He growled.

* * *

Saren threw his overheated rifle away in disgust, drawing his pistol; just as the human slashed his knife at Sarens unarmored throat. Saren threw his head back, the titanium blade whistling as it missed by millimeters. He hip fired his pistol, forcing the human behind the landing gear of another fighter. Saren sprinted towards his escape fighter, then ducked behind cover as the human rapid fired Sarens rifle. Apparently the little vermin had recovered it while he was running.

Saren sprinted to the next fighter, but the human didn't fire.

He cautiously peeked out; just as the human threw itself from the top of the fighter he was hiding under and tackled him with a roar. The two fighters rolled away from each other, Saren firing his pistol frantically.

The slug slammed into his rifle, shattering it into a thousand fragments.

The human continued forward undaunted. He anticipated Sarens next the shots, and dodged away from each; drawing closer with each step. He rapidly slashed at Sarens hands and fingers, which Saren barely managed to dodge; before the human surprised him by grabbing his shooting arm and dashing behind Saren.

The Spectre turned with the human to avoid having his arm dislocated, and found himself slightly disoriented. The human kicked him in the chest, and Sarens eyes widened as he beheld the humans knife jammed into the barrel.

Saren snarled and threw his ruined weapon at the human, as the human drew another knife and batted away the ruined gun.

Saren ducked under the inevitable slash, and flipped the human over his head; dropping him with an audible crash. Saren raced over to the ladder, knowing the human was already on his feet and charging him. He reached the ladder, and then spun around; taking the human off guard.

He clotheslined the soldier, sending him flat on his back.

Seeing his chance, Saren grabbed the human and threw him through the open hatch; and rushed to close it. The human saw what he was doing, and threw his knife. Saren ignored the pain racing through his arm; as the knife, incredibly, found the chink in his armor and buried itself into his shoulder.

Saren slammed the hatch shut, and rapidly smashed the keypad; causing the emergency locks to trigger.

He heard the human smashing itself against the hatch, so he rushed over and clambered into the cockpit; thanking the spirits that he, Vasir, and Bau had read up on how to operate Confederate spacecraft. Once he heard the cockpit pressurize, he hit the detonator.

The seven other fighters in the hanger went up in flames, while the hander door was blown open.

Saren throttled up, and piloted the craft through the hole he had created; just as the emergency blast doors sealed the hanger shut. He was disappointed that he wasn't able to kill the human, but he had still inflicted serious damage to the station, so that was good enough for him.

He firewalled the throttle, and accelerated away to the rendezvous point. "Bau, Vasir, I'm free of the station and have severely damaged a hanger bay. Status?" He transmitted.

After a few seconds, Vasir said; "I failed to place my explosives, and I'm wounded. Human managed to get me with his knife. About to meet up with the frigate." She replied, panting.

Bau was next, "Attacked by an AI, quickly disabled her. She slashed my back, but unhurt otherwise. Disabled the space elevator and another hanger, stole fighter. ETA to frigate 3 minute." He stated tersely.

So… all three of them were wounded.

No matter; the mission was accomplished.

* * *

**A/N: I am considering starting a discord server, let me know if I should start one.**

**You know when I said I don't like action scenes in fics? This chapter is why; I could just feel my brain shutting down as I worked, but I pushed through it. Ugh.**

**Next chapter will be a little different; I hope you like it.**

**I tried to show how Colt and Saren, the two premier intelligence/special forces operators of their respective species, are not that different at the end of the day. Both are almost fanatically loyal to their respective species, and are incredibly racist to those they deem as "lesser races." The only real difference between the two is that Colt is better at hiding his racism, mostly due to the fact that the Confederacy is less tolerant of blatant racism in general.**

**I went to St. Mary's City… I feel, humbled I suppose. **

**In 1633, the first colony in America to allow religious toleration was founded. Maryland was one of the key places the founding fathers used for drafting up the constitution regarding religion. Everyone knows about the **_**Mayflower**_** ad Plymouth Rock. **

**Next to no one knows about the **_**Ark**_** and the **_**Dove.**_** And the records are so poor and sparse, next to no one will… it saddens me I guess.**

**PM me if you're interested in doing fanart.**

**I would love to have a TV tropes page.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	24. The Interview

_The following interview was done in 2236, and only recently uncovered and restored. The Interviewee is Historian Robert Leaply, author of the bestselling book "A Crisis of Sentience"; and the Interviewer is an unknown Asari news anchor, whom we are unable to identify._

_Please bear in mind that this footage was badly damaged due to unknown reasons, possibly due to its location being in the area of a terrorist bombing. As such, please bear in mind that this interview is incomplete and is missing data._

_Thank you, and enjoy._

* * *

Asari Interviewer (AI): It's an honor to have you Mr. Leaply

Robert Leaply (RL): The Honor is mine Ma'am.

AI: So I have some questions for you regarding your book; for our audience, it covers the time period from the Confederacies first contact with the Quarians to the days leading up to the end of the Turian-Human war. Many of these questions will be for the benefit of younger audiences, or for those less rehearsed in history and technology.

RL: Ask away.

AI: Okay then, question one regards human shields: Throughout your entire book not one turian projectile or torpedo was blocked by a human shield. Maybe the Confederacy didn't have any at the beginning of the war but I think they would have installed some after 1 1/2 years of war. But this line of thinking is unlikely considering the Confederacy had have shields to protect their cities from orbital bombardment.

RL: A good Question; Humans did have shields, but they were weaker than most council races because the Confederacy relied more on armor than on shields. For armor comparison, A Turian dreadnaught would have its bow blown off by a confederate torpedo if hit in the right place; A Confederate battleship would have a hole blown in its hull, but it would still be mostly fine.

AI: Interesting, Next question then, and don't worry there will be follow ups later; Ship armor, It seemed to be missing as well during the book and while it could be argued that the turians depend on their Kinetic Barriers; what about the Humans? Yes torpedoes are made to punch through armor but that's why sections of a ship can be sealed to stop the damage from spreading to far.

RL: Turians were unused to Torpedo attacks like what the Confederates used in those days, and as such didn't have proper countermeasures or compartmentalization. Sorry for the short answers by the way, I'm trying to save my voice for later.

AI: It's quite alright Mr. Leaply. Now in your book you noted several times that bridge/command rooms for ships were prime targets; for humans, most seafaring vessels have their bridge above water so they can see things outside. So why would human ships have the bridge somewhere at the edge of a space vessel where seeing outside is unnecessary? Now you can argue that they aren't, but if they weren't the amount of hits to the bridge in the story would make no sense; especially because the Turians wouldn't know where the bridge is located on the Confederates vessels and couldn't precisely target it.

RL: Only U-Boats and Carriers have this problem, U-Boats because of their small size and with how compact they are; Carriers because they are essentially floating hollow cigars, so there are not a lot of places to put a command area.

AI: Next are Turian torpedoes: Maybe I misunderstood but at the beginning of the conflict the Turians didn't have torpedoes because they relied on their mass effect guns. So their torpedoes would have been vastly inferior to the confederates torpedoes even after 1 1/2 years. Even if the Turians had torpedoes, their doctrine was centered on dreadnoughts and their guns while the confederacies doctrine seems more centered on lighter ships and torpedoes.

RL: I can't really explain it that well in a short interview, but in layman's terms; Admiral Isarius forced the Turian navy to start adapting. The Turians did have torpedoes, but they didn't stack up well compared to the confederacy. A lot of behind the scenes scientific research and reverse engineering happened to help the Turians in that regard.

AI: Ok then, the amount of prowler/U-boats: I believe you wrote the confederacy had 102 of them when they attacked Palaven. That seems like a ridiculously low amount considering how small they are. There's no way to effectively blockade the Turian supply ships with so few Prowlers and U-Boats.

RL: The Confederate industry was still crawling up to that point. Remember, The Central Government could not force the civilian owned factories into producing war materials for the military; and the nation states would only give them said materials under gunpoint. It was only once we invaded Palaven did many companies actually believe we had a chance of winning the war. A number of tax breaks and government contracts helped though.

AI: Very well, what about the Triumvirate telling the council that the spirits are AI. I can't even begin to fathom a reason why they would do that. They could have claimed that a third of the confederacy's population was AI, nothing more. They had to have known that when it got out, the amount of prisoners that would get taken alive among the AI will drop sharply. Sparatus made the average Turians point of view quite clear during the book.

RL: Ah yes… Grant, Isaaman, and Singh get so much flack for that decision. But we humans have a saying in my line of work, "History is 20/20 hindsight." Do you know what that means?

AI: No I don't, I am embarrassed to admit.

RL: It essentially means that we here in the present have the benefit of knowing exactly what is going to happen. Everything leading up to this point happened. The people in the past don't have that benefit; they didn't know what was going to happen. The made their judgments based on what they knew and the context surrounding their circumstances. So from their point of view, it was better to get the truth out then and set the narrative rather than let it stay a secret and get blown open in negotiations later.

AI: I suppose that makes sense…

AI: Now… Inviting the Quarians into the Confederacy; I can understand that your people wanted to help them; however such an invitation isn't exactly something that's extended lightly. So having it happen without knowing more about the Quarians is very unlikely, and seems short sighted to me.

RL: Senator Stevens, when he initially proposed the idea, was just making himself look good along with a misguided attempt to do the right thing. Only after 1 1/2 years of war was the idea actually being taken seriously in the House and Senate because the Confederates were seeing firsthand how excellent Quarians are with tech and engineering.

AI: Ok, Why did they give the warp drive to the Quarians?

RL: They only gave them to the liveships, and under heavy guard to prevent theft and reverse engineering. "Trust but Verify" as the IAA's motto advises.

AI: The industrial output and shipbuilding/repair capabilities of the Turians. With their home world, under attack the Turians industrial production should have droped very sharply compared to the rising humans. Even if the Turians only had to repair their ships, they would have been in very serious trouble and should have been recalling much more of their fleet from elsewhere or they would most certainly lose the war. Every day they couldn't use the production of their home world cost them dearly, as many Turian viewers will recall.

RL: Again, "History is 20/20 Hindsight." The Turians were not as centralized with ship building and repair as one might think, but yes having their home world under attack did put a very big dent in their shipbuilding. It's one reason why the confederacy was able to catch up as fast as they did. But you must remember, even with Palavens invasion Admiral Isarius was the only one who could see the long term effects of it. And the Turians still had to patrol the rest of council space to protect them from pirates and the Batarians.

AI: Regarding cyberwarfare, The Confederacy's AI's were able to crack the Quarian encryption and firewalls so they should have been superior to the citadels. Blocking these things might have helped the Turians a bit, but wouldn't the Confederacy still have had the advantage of faster information spread and similar things through the AI's? At the same time couldn't the human's intelligence services read the encrypted messages from the Turian military?

RL: You likely won't believe me, but I did have the answers to that question in my original draft of the book. But the Confederacies censors told me to remove those sections; so unfortunately I can't answer that question due to national security.

AI: Okay then, what about humanities reluctance to commit to the war fully? I can understand that they didn't want to fight just for the Quarians, but that wasn't exactly the case by that point in the war. Alone the demand to kill all AI's would be enough for even the most reluctant politician to stop arguing completely against it.

RL: One has to remember that humanity was still scarred, for lack of a better term, from New Athens; and the bloody formation of the Confederacy is still taught in the history books. Wars always result in Governments amassing power for themselves, and Humanity at large was terrified of such a thing coming to pass. It was only when the Council made their Anti-AI stance clear did humanity finally rally behind the war fully.

AI: Humanity and the rest of the citadel races during the war; the Turians could have just assembled their forces in one of the other races space, and then charge right into human territory. The Turians could have sent supplies through their allies' space as well while the confederacy wouldn't be allowed to intercept them. And why didn't the Turians hire Asari shipbuilders to replace their ships which the humans couldn't prevent either.

RL: A lot of political behind the scenes actions stopped that from happening. The biggest factors being the-

* * *

_/ERROR! _

_/FILE CORRUPTED! _

_/MOVING TO NEXT RESTORED POINT!_

* * *

\- _(Presumably the Asari Interviewer)_…the entirety of space in Palaven's system was jammed, that should have been a big sign that it was a trap. It is tactically very stupid to split your forces like Hackett did, at least when you have carriers and supposedly fighter and bomber dominance which the Hackett probably thought they had.

RL: Ah yes… the First Naval Battle of Palaven. Hackett gets a lot of flak these days for that blunder. Hackett made a mistake, plain and simple. I said earlier it was like Operation Market Garden meets the Guadalcanal Campaign and had a baby. He went in with bad intel, and made a pretty big tactical blunder under the assumption that he had superiority in the system. Before you say Hackett was incompetent, he was not; every great General or Admiral in history has made a very bad mistake in their careers. Grant had Cold Harbor, Lee had Gettysburg, Napoleon had Waterloo, Eisenhower had the Bulge, and Rommel had Normandy. They are only human and are bound to make big mistakes. The difference between them, and a bad or average leader, is how they adapt. They open a hole in their lines? They adapt, deal with it, and move on. Hackett saw his mistake, compensated for it, and manage to salvage a draw rather than a total defeat.

AI: Wasn't the Confederacy already catching up to the Turians economy before their attack on Palaven? How much influence did the attack have? Were they already superior in industrial capacity?

RL: A lot of questions there. Okay, the Confederacy was catching up, but they were still under preforming in some areas because many of the nation-states and the civilian sector were still reluctant to invest in the war. Once the attack began, the Turians shipbuilding dropped dramatically, while the Confederacies shot up. The Turian lost a lot because they had lost access to their home world; the Confederacy gained a lot because many companies now saw that they had a lot to gain by helping the Military with producing war materials.

RL: For the last question, they were already superior in the sense that the United States was superior to Germany during the Second World War. The problem the Confederacy had was convincing the civilian industry to help them, as I have said several times.

* * *

_/ERROR…_

_/FILE CORRUPTED…_

_/WARNING… EXTERNAL SOURCE DETECTED…_

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_…_

**A/N: Alright, so I might start up a discord server for this story; if I do I will post the invite link in the next chapter and on my profile. It depends on you guys; let me know if you want a discord server.**

**Huge thanks to fan **_**matze3**_** for allowing me to use their questions during a private discussion for this chapter. Yeah that's right; this chapter was a Q/A session in disguise. I'll be honest, I'm not a fan of 4****th**** wall breaking comedy, or Q/A chapters that do the same. It often times comes off as stilted or weird to me. **

**The exception to this is **_**Deadpool 1 **_**and **_**2**_** of course. That film is so goddamned funny, I will never unhear Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool now. When I heard about **_**Detective Pikachu,**_** I went, "Well… I used to like Pokémon, and I still check up on it… eh I'll pass." Because my thought process immediately went to every single shitty movie adapted from a video game, and I thought it wouldn't be worth it. Minute I heard Ryan Reynolds was voicing Pikachu I went "Shut up and Take my Money." **

**Back to 4****th**** wall breaking comedy; the reason that it works with Deadpool, for me at least, is that the other characters never even acknowledge that Deadpools talking to the audience or camera. They just carry on like he didn't say anything. And with Deadpool, it's completely in character for him to break the 4****th**** wall.**

**But this is not Deadpool, so I went a different route.**

**Alrighty, PM if you would like to do fanart.**

**A TV Tropes page is greatly desired by this author.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	25. Tenno Heika! Banzai!

_Logging on…_

_Authorization required to access these files…_

_Login accepted… _

_Welcome Councilor [REDACTED]_

_Codex Entry 021: The Nation-States of the Confederacy._

_Ever Since the formation of the Confederacy, almost all the Nation-States had sponsored and founded their own colony's and built their own space fleets. To the surprise of many in Council space, including myself, this never proved to be much of a problem._

_The Nation-States are galactic powers in their own right._

_The Nation-States could guard their own colonies with their own Fleets and Militaries, freeing up areas that the Confederacy didn't have to patrol. The only real headache that caused was how they should be represented. It was eventually decided that they would be given non-voting seats in the House and Senate until the Colony either decided to become its own Nation, or they would simply stick it out on their own under no banner. _

_The ten most powerful Nation-States; also known as the "Big Ten" are, predictably, on earth. Please bear in mind that these only factor in military strength and fleet size, not the economy or population backing it. The list goes as follows from most powerful to least powerful. _

_The United States of America, the Russian Federation, the Republic of China, the Indian Republic, the Federal Republic of Brazil, the Republic of Poland, the Federal Republic of Germany, the United Kingdom, the State of Israel, and the State of Japan. Each has at least ten colonies, a fleet of over one hundred ships, and over 250,000 people employed in their militaries._

_You may notice that these ten Nation-States alone outnumber the Confederacies navy. The reason is because these ten Nations are permanent members of the Security Council, and as such hold the right to dismantle the Confederacy if a majority of the Nation-States feel that the government has amassed too much power. As such, they feel they must have standing armies and navies to revoke and reasonably challenge the Confederacies authority._

_The Most powerful is the United States of America (USA); despite being weakened by its civil war in the 21__st__ century, America was still the strongest Nation-State by default since the entire planet had been bogged down by hundreds of mini wars, and proxy wars. By 2230, the United States had over 250 Spaceships; with a ratio of 1 battleship, for every 2 carriers, for every 4 cruisers, for every 7 destroyers. Or 1:2:4:7, Many of the nation states have a similar ratio. The U.S.A also had over 800,000 Soldiers, Airman, Sailors, and Marines; most deployed on colonies or on joint peace-keeping missions in the Confederacy._

_The Russian Federation by 2230 had close to 200 warships; similar ratio to the US, only with two battleships for every one carrier. They have over 700,000 military personal, but most are on earth; with about a third deployed on colonies. _

_/Skipping…_

_I hear you asking if these Nation-States are responsible for the war suddenly turning in the Confederacies favor. Well when the US and Russia decided to finally commit some of their forces to assist the Confederate War Effort, Palaven fell. _

_I think that answer speaks for itself._

_Keep in mind, when I gave the list of Turian-Confederate fleet strength comparison in the previous entry, I was only giving numbers dedicated to the Confederate "Pacification" campaign. The top ten Nation-States fleets combined add up to approximately 1,500 ships; compared to only 612 ships for the Confederate navy. But they don't answer to the same authority, so they don't get counted._

_The Turian fleet, including those dedicated to the Pacification Fleets numbered around 2,500 ships. Before Palaven both sides were, metaphorically speaking, fighting with one arm behind their backs. When the Confederacy invaded Palaven, and the Nation-States realized the possibilities of winning the war, both sides took that other arm out. _

_Everything was on the table._

_Logging off…_

* * *

**January 4****th****, 2234; Reach Orbital Shipyards**

Fleet Admiral Adam Eduardovych Bilyk glared at the destroyed hanger bay the Salarian Mercenary had damaged. Quiet fury was bubbling all inside him. He knew that the Salarian and his Asari companion weren't merc's that the Turian Spectre had hired, but he would never be able to prove it.

He turned from the Sailors cutting away the wreckage and scrubbing the deck and looked at the four people that had saved the station; along with the two people responsible for putting it in jeopardy. Along with one very uncomfortable bystander.

"How did the Salarian disable you Comrade Resnick?" He asked the lone AI in the group, absently dusting his overcoat.

The synthetic shifted uncomfortably, picking at the hem of her stealth cloak; "I slashed him in the back with my blade, and he used his omnitool in retaliation. I don't know what it was exactly, but it felt like I was being burned from the inside out. After the pain went away, I found that I couldn't move. Best guess I have is that he used some sort of hacking program on my emitter."

Major Anderson nodded slowly, "That would make sense. I talked with the tech people; they said any AI's that happened to be in the security system jumped into their emitters screaming in pain, and holding their heads. None of them were coherent, and all of them kept babbling something about 'old machines' and all that."

The Reach native nodded, his fury subsiding somewhat. "Very well, that explains our electronic security failures. What that doesn't explain, is our physical security failures." He ground out, his Ukrainian accent leaking out somewhat.

"A whole cohort of Electronic Warfare AI's jump out of cyber space and into their emitters screaming and that doesn't even trigger an alert?" Bilyk asked.

He glared at Marine Major Harkin, and Navel Captain Korov; the two men shifted uncomfortably, both fumbling for an answer that would somehow get them out of the line of fire. After a few seconds, Bilyk silenced them and turned to the IAA agent, Colt; and Marine Lieutenant McKay.

McKay shrugged, "Harkin ordered my men away from the hangers and told them to protect the _Enterprise_. If it had been a mass attack and boarding action I wouldn't have questioned it, but since it was sabotage I tried to make him see reason and get my boys to their regular security postings. He told me that I would be shot if I didn't move my men."

"After I got treated for my injuries, I confronted McKay; asking why there were no Marines guarding the hanger bays and fighters. When she told me, we both went to find Major Harkin; we found him hiding under his desk." Agent Colt confirmed, disgust leaking into voice.

Bilyk glared at the two incompetent officers, his face was flat and disciplined; but when he spoke, it was like liquid nitrogen was pouring out of his body.

"Marines." He called.

Four marines in full battle armor jogged up and quickly saluted. Bilyk didn't bother to return it he was so angry; he waved his arm at the two disgraced officers.

"Please escort comrades Harkin and Korov to my ships brig. They are to be court martialed once we reach Earth for gross negligence, dereliction of duty, and conduct unbecoming an officer." He ordered. The Marines dropped their salutes, and grabbed Harkin and Korov; quickly escorting them away.

He turned to the last person in the group that he had yet to talk to. "Admiral Hackett, when will the _Enterprise_ be ready? I want her back over Palaven as soon as possible to reestablish fleet supremacy." He asked.

Hackett took his eyes away from the disgraced officers and turned his attention back to Bilyk; "I can be ready tomorrow. The Aircraft catch and release crane in the third hanger bay on the _Enterprise_ is still broken, but I can make do without it. _Rayya, _and_ Stalingrad _are still out; the _Rayya_ has to have her hanger bay rebuilt for all intents and purposes.

The _Stalingrads_ new engines are still being reattached, and won't be ready for another week. But the _Antietam _is 100% and ready to go. I just need the go ahead and some new ships to replace what my task force lost sir." Hackett said.

Bilyk nodded, "You'll get them, just get to Palaven; the Marines will be starting a mass offensive soon, they intend to take Palavens capitol and possibly capture the Turians leaders. But they'll need air domination to prevent their escape. The Nation-States are allowing us to use their fleets now."

Everyone was stunned, the Nation-States giving their fleets up willingly? Without any form of payment? This had to be too good to be true. "Sir… I don't like looking a gift horse in the mouth but… why?" Hackett finally asked.

Bilyk gave them a dry smile, "Oh it came with a bill alright, but it's one that comes with a tolerable payment. They want to gain a leg up in Military operations. Form a space NATO for lack of a better term; more freedom to conduct military affairs independently, or jointly. I think the price is worth it though." He explained.

Hackett nodded while Colt turned to Anderson and Resnick; "Tell the _058_'s skipper to get ready, we're going to Palaven."

* * *

**January 7****th****, 2234; 1700 Hours, Trenches Outside Palavens Capitol.**

Captain Hannah walked through her section of trenches, ignoring the downpour of rain. It was odd; ever since they had been here it seemed like the sun never shone once on the God forsaken planet. It must have been clear most days, but Hannah never noticed it when it was clear.

Maybe it was because of how hopeless everyone felt.

She went up through the trenches to the Mortar Area, where Staff-Sergeant Mulligan had set up his platoon. She ground her teeth, she hated dealing with the little idiot, but she had no choice. As she approached, Mulligan looked up and his eyes widened as his face drained of color.

"Whoa, hey now Shepherd; will ya wait a minute? It's not me I tell ya! It's not me! I-I can't tell one grid zone from another! They all look alike, they all look alike Shepherd. If I could tell, would I be here? Would I be here!? I wouldn't be here Shepherd! I'd be back in New York, working at those factories; be with all those hot gals!" Mulligan rambled, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Hannah rolled her eyes, "Relax Mulligan, I'm just here to-"

"I'm gonna tell ya Shepherd we need to have a little understanding around here! God Dammit we need to have an understanding around here!" Mulligan interrupted, sounding close to tears.

"Relax!" Hannah ordered, holding her hand up. "Listen Mulligan, if I was here to kick your ass over that damned barrage you wouldn't even know it. Look, we're going to be assaulting the trenches at sunset. 1900 Mulligan. At grid zone Echo-419, you're firing your barrage for 10 minutes, and then you stop. Got it?"

Mulligan gulped, "O-okay… I'll g-get it right this time Captain."

Hannah pointed her finger right at him, "You better get it right and remember it Mulligan, that's all I have to say on the matter." She growled before walking back to her hovel in her trench.

She pushed the plastic tarp aside and walked into the underground bunkhouse, about half of the company waiting there. Her Sergeant Major looked up at her, "Well Cap?" He asked.

Hannah smiled as she took off her helmet and grabbed some soup.

"I think I got my message across, we assault at 1908 hours; two minutes before he wraps up his barrage. Make sure the men's bayonets are sharp and ready." She replied.

He nodded, while Hannah ate her soup as fast as she could. While nowhere near as cold as Baltimore during the winter, it was still unpleasant weather. About 40 degrees Fahrenheit mixed with rain and wind was one of the worst combinations a soldier not accustomed to cold weather could experience.

Once she finished up her soup she stopped a corporal that was walking by.

"Corporal, have the Sergeant Major wake me up about ten mikes before Mulligan starts his barrage." She ordered.

The Corporal nodded and walked off as Hannah leaned back onto the foam sleeping mat and closed her eyes; last thing she thought of before drifting off was her kids.

* * *

**1850 Hours; 18 minutes before Assault.**

Someone kicked Hannah's leg, and she grabbed her rifle; before calming down upon seeing her Sergeant Major. She got up and slipped on her helmet, while pulling out her bayonet and attaching it to her rifle.

"Everyone ready?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am, the Russian Shock Troopers and Japanese Army Troopers are waiting for us." He replied.

Hannah nodded and walked out into the rain, which had increased since then. She ignored the mud and jogged up to the Russian's CO. She had been surprised that the Nation-States had actually started committing their own forces to the campaign. The Russian Shock Troopers were a welcome sight, and the news they had brought had lifted their spirits even more.

The Nation-States had finally started contributing to the war effort. The United States had given half of their fleet to the Confederacy, the Russians a Quarter of their fleet. The Chinese and Poles had given a third of their fleets; and all of the "Big Ten" had sent several divisions to Palaven.

Never before had something like this happened.

The Nation-States and their colonies had always kept their fleets and militaries kicking and screaming. That they were giving them up willingly was either really good, or really bad. But, Hannah was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Comrade Shepherd, it is good to see you." Major Sergei Molotov greeted her.

"_Konbanwa_, Captain." Captain Sato Hideo stated.

Hannah nodded at both of them, the Japanese and Russian's were the only ones besides her Marines qualified to take a hardened position like the Turians trenches. The American and Confederate tanks and armored fighting vehicles were all ready to begin moving, they were just waiting on Mulligan's mortar barrage now.

The plan was to sneak through no man's land before the barrage was finished, and wait until they were right on top of the Turian defenses; then charge into their lines and take out their gun emplacements. When that was done, they would hold the line while the Tanks and other infantry vehicles blitzed through the lines.

The three commanders said nothing as the time ticked to 1900.

_Boom!Boom!Boom!_

_Boom!Boom!_

_Bo!Bo!Boom!Boom!Bo!Bo!Boom!_

The distinctive thuds and booms of Mulligans mortars echoed through the night, the pitter patter of rain overshadowed by the rapid fire of the mobile artillery. The whistling of the mortar shells was almost cathartic, and then the explosions began lighting up the enemy trenches. Hannah watched as she could see Turians screaming and ducking for cover, illuminated by the flashes of the striking mortar shells.

She never took pleasure in death, and she prayed that God would guide their souls to where they needed to be.

"Thirty seconds early, that's actually pretty good considering that it's Mulligan." Hannah quipped to take her mind of the incoming assault. At seeing her fellow officers looks of confusion she said, "With Mulligan, either he's on time and misses his target. Or nails the barrage, but is too early or too late."

Molotov shrugged, "So long as he hits the target I don't care."

Hideo shook his head, "Captain, do you believe we can take this position." He asked, his helmet concealing his features, but Hannah could tell he was rather concerned.

Hannah cracked her neck, "I think so; Marines always get the hard jobs, only easy day was yesterday." She huffed, trying not to let her own concerns get to her.

Hideo nodded, "We Japanese have always prided ourselves in overcoming our enemies."

"And we Russians are defined by suffering. Centuries of constant suffering and we have always endured. Make no Mistake Comrades, no matter what happens tonight will not break my Shock Troopers. Nothing ever will, Mother Russia has made us strong." Molotov said.

None of them said anything further as Hannah looked at her watch.

"Two minutes till we move gents. I'll see you on the battlefield." Hannah said, giving the two men a nod.

"God watch over you comrade Captain." Molotov replied, slipping on his helmet.

"_Gokouun o inorimasu."_ Hideo bowed before leaving.

Hannah jogged over to her Marines, all of them doing last minute checks on their armor and weapons. All had fixed their black titanium bayonets to the ends of their rifles; all of them were ready to go.

Hannah checked her watch again, and shouted, "Up boys and girls up! On your feet! Move fast, but move quietly; don't shoot until the order is given, and stay with your squads. Let's Go!"

They all rapidly climbed the trench, moving as fast as their feet could carry them. The rain and the Mortars helped shield the noise of a company of over 150 Marines half running, half jogging across no man's land. They moved from crater to crater, destroyed vehicle to destroyed tank, mound of dirt to abandoned trench. They avoided the open like the plague.

Four other Marine Companies were doing the same on their right flank.

Five Companies of Russian Shock Troopers were on her immediate left, and Six Companies of Japanese Soldiers were on their extreme left. If all went to plan, the Turians would be overwhelmed.

Just a quarter mile from the Turian lines the mortars stopped.

Hannah cursed; _30 seconds too early, Mulligans goddamned watch must be 30 seconds fast._

At only a thousand feet, the Turians spotted the advancing humans. One fired a shot and knocked a Marine down who was moving from cover.

Upon the first shot, Hannah heard something she would never forget. All the way from across the lines, she heard words that hadn't been uttered in almost three centuries.

"_Tennōheika!" _she heard Hideo scream.

"_Banzai!" _His troops responded.

At the exact same time, Molotov shouted; "Show these metal heads what Mother Russia has born, Men! _URRA!_"

"_URRA" _his men bellowed

Not wanting to be left out, Hannah raised her rifle and screamed; "Onward boys! Marines always move them!" She let out the bone chilling squall of the Confederate Wail. Her Marines screamed it out as well, sending a wave of despair through the enemy.

* * *

Nihlus looked up as he heard multiple screams and roars from no man's land. As one all the Turians began rising up in the trenches.

"Holy shit!" One screamed and raised his rifle as a Human blew his head off.

Nihlus grabbed his submachine gun, but the ear shattering wail that drew up from the charging Confederates sent a very peculiar and jarring corkscrew sensation up his spine. Many of his men froze with fear, and before they knew it the humans were on top of them.

Some threw down their guns, others tried to run; the rest started shooting.

Humans fell, but that didn't deter them. _Spirits, there's thousands of them._ He realized as he saw the humans charging.

_CRACK! _

Nihlus fell onto his back, rolling as he did so. A Human stabbed his gun mounted knife at him, snarling the whole while. Nihlus kicked the human away, ignoring the crack in his visor, and fired his pistol into the human's center of mass. The first three were spent on the shield, one was stopped by the armor, and the last three went into the human's heart.

Nihlus grabbed his gun and fell back to the secondary trench, knowing the first was already lost. There wasn't any attempt at command or control, just sheer desperation and instinct were all that were driving the defenders now.

He saw one Turian desperately trying to stop his leg from bleeding.

Nihlus rushed over to help him, ignoring the human's incoming war cries; "You know what to do! Keep pressure on it!" Nihlus screamed.

The soldier grabbed Nihlus and growled, "No! Don't need help, too far gone; get back to the rally point." He shoved Nihlus away while pulling out a grenade.

Nihlus turned and ran through the maze of trenches, knowing full well what the soldier intended. He saw many horrid things as he ran. One wounded Turian tried to shoot the humans as they advanced, and was swiftly stabbed by three different humans.

Another tried to throw a grenade only to have his head blown off by a human infantryman; then the grenade went off and blew up several Turians and a few humans that had gotten too close.

One human, wearing a uniform Nihlus had never seen, with a rectangular patch of a white, blue, and red flag; he wore an odd device that Nihlus had never seen before. Then the human squeezed the trigger, and roaring flames flew into the pillboxes where some defenders had taken shelter.

Until his dying day, Nihlus would never forget the sound the flamethrower made, nor the screams of the men as they burned to death.

After what seemed like hours of running from cover to cover, trench to trench, did Nihlus see the rally point. For a brief moment, he almost thought he would make it. Amid the sounds of gunfire and explosions and rain, Nihlus swore to every god worshipped by every species in the galaxy and then some, he heard the shot that brought him down.

_BANG!_

The round punched through his armor, his shields having given out long ago from constant near misses. His leg gave out as Nihlus cursed and fell. He played dead; hoping whoever shot him would think they killed him. Unfortunately for him, both sides bought it.

"Nihlus is dead!"

"Run!"

"Retreat! Fall back to the City!"

A multitude of voices screamed, Nihlus closed his eyes; the defenses to the capitol had broken, nothing was stopping the humans now. _I'm only 20; I don't want to die today. _He thought with a quiet whimper. He felt something tread on his wound, and Nihlus screamed and blacked out.

* * *

Nihlus wasn't sure how long he had blacked out, but when he woke up he was buried in mud. He slowly looked around with his eyes, from what little he could see. He took a breath then coughed and choked as water went into his mouth. He jolted up and yanked off his helmet, water splashing down his face.

He looked at it and realized the crack in his visor had allowed rain water to build up on the bottom of his helmet; it was a miracle he hadn't drowned in his own helmet.

Nihlus looked around, the sun rising in the distance; the beautiful sight was marred by smoke rising from every direction.

Dead bodies were everywhere. Most were Turian, but it was difficult to tell; the mud and the blood practically burying everything. Nihlus looked around for a weapon but found none. He cursed and slowly dragged himself to his feet.

He heard voices and quickly dove underneath a hovel that had been carved out.

Several humans passed by, stopping in front of some of their dead.

"Damn, you Ruskies and Japs sure know how to fight; look, these two guys must have taken at least ten with 'em before they bought it." One said a tinge of sadness in her voice.

"_Da,_ I told you comrade Shepherd; Mother Russia makes us strong." Another replied, an odd accent that sounded almost Quarian to the translator.

"I hope this was worth it, we lost almost a thousand Marines, Shock Troopers, and Soldiers." The one called "Shepherd" replied.

"We killed over three thousand Turians, and broke their defenses; our Joint Strike Force Armor divisions will be at the city in a few hours. Let us hope these Turians aren't as experienced in urban warfare as my fellow Russians are." The second griped.

"How can you be so callous as to see this as a statistic Sergei?" Shepherd replied angrily.

There was a sigh, "_Nyet _comrade Shepherd; when I said that we Russians know suffering, I was serious, not just waxing poetic. 'One death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic.' Joseph Stalin, one of the most evil people in the galaxy; but he was right in that regard, at least on a personal level in war. A person can only let so much death be personal before he must look at it clinically like I do, lest it drive them mad." The male, "Sergei" replied.

"Let's look at this from another angle my friends, better there be more death now than even more death later. We can make people so sick of war that they will wish to end it as soon as possible, thus sparing more lives in the end. 'Persecute your foes as ruthlessly as possible, but once they surrender treat them as any honorable and worthy foe deserves in defeat; with honor, compassion, and brotherly love.' That is what my teacher at OCS taught me when I was going through Defense Force training." A third voice, this one also male piped up.

Nihlus didn't dare move, but he was fascinated by what these people were saying; especially what the third had said. Contrary to Spectre Arterius's report, these people were more than mindless killing machines. These three grunts were waxing philosophy over the moralities of war, and were lamenting the loss of everyone's lives.

The mud and clay gave out beneath him and Nihlus gave a choked cry, gripping his leg.

The Three humans stopped talking, and he could hear them turning towards him. Nihlus decided to make a run for it, and stood and sprinted to the connecting trench. He took one step and his leg gave out. He gave a howl of pain and tried to crawl away, frantically trying to escape; fear still overriding his logic.

Someone grabbed his shoulders, and Nihlus screamed; quickly trying to bat them away.

"Shhh… it's okay, we're not going to hurt you." A feminine voice said, trying to sooth him. Nihlus kept trying to crawl, only stopping when the pain in his leg became too much. He clutched it tightly as tears worked their way into his eyes.

"Don't hurt me! Don't burn my eyes out please! I just want to go home!" He cried despite himself. Despite the monotony and constant death involved with Trench warfare, it was nothing compared to last night; and Nihlus felt all of his fears come rushing to his mind. It was too much for him.

He was still a kid in reality, 20 years old; never dated, never even left Palaven.

"_Успокойтесь, _we don't mean you harm Turian." Sergei said.

"_daijoubu,_ That leg looks bad, let me have a look at it." The last male said.

Nihlus blinked the tears out of his eyes, to see three humans in different uniforms standing over him. The one in the middle knelt down and took out a syringe. "This is for the pain; don't worry, its dextro-based." He explained.

Nihlus barely felt it as the human injected the needle into his leg; he gave an involuntary sigh of relief as the pain drained out of his leg.

The other two humans kneeled, one depolarizing her visor, the other taking off his helmet and the balaclava underneath, revealing a pale skinned male with a shaved head. "That is your name comrade?" The male on the left asked.

"C-corporal N-Nihlus." He shakily replied, already ashamed at breaking down like he had.

"Listen Nihlus, I don't know what your commanders have told you; but we don't execute prisoners. We only stop taking them if the enemy does the same." The female, Shepherd, explained. "Listen, we're gonna have the corpsmen take you to one of our POW camps; they'll interrogate you for information, but you're only obligated to give them your name, rank, and serial number. Okay?"

Nihlus nodded, feeling his fear recede somewhat.

"You and your men fought well Corporal. And with much honor I should add, you are warriors through and through. You are very much deserving of proper treatment." The one treating his leg added.

Nihlus gave the Turian approximation of a smile.

As several corpsmen came to take him away, and as he began to drift off due to the pain meds; Nihlus would never forget the kindness the three humans had shown him. He had seen the absolute worst of humanity in war, a ruthlessness only matched by Krogan. But he had also seen their best, a moral firmness and Ernest forgiveness. Any other species, his own included, would punish those that dared defy them.

A Salarian would seal your fate and leave you to die.

An Asari would help, but would never forget the deed and keep you in their debt.

His fellow Turians would have killed you and been done with it.

But these humans had stopped to help him, with nothing given in return. They wouldn't extract information for help, they hadn't secured a life debt from him, and they hadn't left him to die.

_Spectre Arterius is wrong, they are savages in war; but they are the kindest species we shall ever meet. _He thought as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: The Fall of Palaven Cometh.**

**Regarding the codex; I bet you guys forgot how important the Nation-States are to the Confederacy. This chapter right here is why, the Confederacy is getting its much needed second wind. I also made sure to clarify things about fleet sizes here for those complaining that I made both fleets too small.**

**The Confederacy is like the United States during the American Revolution almost. The American Army and the central Confederate fleet operate under the central government. The states in the under the Articles all had their own militias that were mostly concerned with only protecting themselves. The Nation-States under the Confederacy are mostly the same way. **

**Granted the Central Government in the United Confederacy definitely has more power than the Articles of Confederation.**

**If the Nation-States military's and the Confederate military ever conduct an operation together, think of it like a NATO exercise or a UN coalition.**

**I also clarified that what was listed last chapter (not counting the Q and A chapter) was only what was dedicated to the "Pacification Fleet" for the Turians before the invasion of Palaven. Now that Palaven's in serious danger of falling, all bets are off.**

**For this battle, just watch "Hacksaw Ridge; Japanese Counterattack" on YouTube to get an idea of what it was like for the Turians, only it's at night; with the joint human attack having Armor as backup, everyone's using modern weapons, and the humans are running from cover to cover rather than run in the open.**

**Staff Sergeant Mulligan is of course a reference to one of my favorite Clint Eastwood movies, I'll let you figure out which.**

**You all know what a "Banzai" charge is, and you know what a Russian "Urra" is. The Confederate wail is pretty much the American Civil Wars "Rebel Yell." No one knows what it sounds like exactly, so I used a Union soldier's description of what you feel like when you hear it for Nihlus's perspective.**

**In my mind, I used author Shelby Foote's interpretation of it being "A foxhunt yip mixed in with a sort of banshees squall, used only on the attack."**

**Hm… I don't really have anything I feel like talking about right now.**

**Oh I know! Check out the YouTube channel World Class Bullshitters, these guys are great at delivering news for pop culture and talking about the state of entertainment. Tell 'em I sent ya if you ever decide to donate to 'em. I love their drinking challenges for when they do movie reviews; it's so fun watching the downward spiral into drunkenness. **

**PM Me if you're interested in doing fanart.**

**I would love to have a TV Tropes page guys, for those wondering why I don't do it is because I'm not allowed to as the stories author.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	26. Boston, Baltimore, and New York Drivers

**January 10****th****, 2234; Palaven Orbit**

Rael looked out at the destruction in space. The Humans and Turians had torn each other to pieces; hundreds of ships drifted helplessly, completely destroyed. Rael had never seen anything like it in all his years of salvaging wrecks and skirmishing with Batarians and Turians.

"Amazing, isn't it?" A voice said beside him.

Rael jumped slightly, but realized that it was his superior talking with him. Admiral Hackett looked out into the system, sadly regarding the mess that he had helped create.

Rael looked back out over the destruction, shaking his head; "I've never seen anything like it sir, no one has stood up to the Turians since the Krogan rebellions. Successfully at least." He responded.

Hackett gave a sad nod, "Complacency, Lieutenant Commander, is what kills an Empire. All throughout human history; Empires grew complacent and arrogant, started believing they were invincible and extend themselves too much. You know what they say, 'Pride Goethe before the fall, but only after you feel the pain of the broken ass bone;' commander."

Rael said nothing in return, knowing full well that could be applied to the Quarian people before the morning war. The Zorah's could trace their ancestry back to the kings and queens that ruled Rannoch before the morning war.

The best governmental comparison on earth Rael could find was the United Kingdom before the formation of the United States; A parliamentary monarchy.

There were many calls in the Provisional Government to restore the Monarchy.

The Confederacy was a little uncomfortable with the notion, but had made it clear it was up to the Quarians above all else. Rael had a pretty deep suspicion that the Provisional Government would have already done it were they not at war. As it stood there was a small problem regarding the matter.

Rael was the only one eligible for succession. Everyone else was either too old, or too young. No one in the Confederacy knew, with a few exceptions; the Triumvirate, Admiral Hackett, and Hannah and her family. He smiled slightly at the latest batch of photo's Kleeah had sent him, Tali playing with John, Jane; along with Mosin and Adrian who were just starting to toddle around.

"We'll be sending a new wave of supplies to the JTF troops down there. I want you to go with them to make sure everything goes smoothly. The Nation-State troopers don't trust confederates, but they do trust you; so I would prefer things to go smoothly." Hackett ordered.

Rael Saluted, "Of course Admiral." He replied.

* * *

**Adair Field; 30 miles south of Palaven's Capitol**

"Rael!" Hannah exclaimed, seeing her friend standing on the offload ramp.

She started forward before seeing the Lieutenant Commanders bars on his shoulders, and quickly saluted. She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was smiling behind it. He returned it before saying, "You don't have to salute me sister." He said, putting on a fake Baltimorean accent, with horrendous results.

"I would prefer not to be shot comrade Zorah." She replied, trying to put on a Kheelish accent, but ended up sounding something like a German or Polish accent.

He put his hand on his heart in fake hurt with a gasp, "You wound me Comrade, and to think I brought you candy bars." He replied.

"Really?" She asked sarcastically.

"They're dextro only." He stated.

"Damn you." She cursed.

They both turned and saw her marines and several Aviators and pilots staring at them. "Alright ladies get this gear unloaded. Pick up the pace let's go!" Hannah bellowed at them. All her men quickly went to work, unloading gear as fast as they could pass it off and set it down.

Hannah turned to Rael, tilting her head; "What are you doing down here?"

"Hackett wanted to make sure delivery went smoothly; he also wanted me to go and see General Williams to get a sense of what's going on down here." He answered.

Hannahs face turned sour, "It's… you best follow me. Lieutenant!" She shouted.

The man stopped and snapped to attention, "You're in charge. I'm taking the LC to the city."

"Yes ma'am." He replied.

She gestured for Rael to follow her. They hopped into what marines called a "Jumper," It had an open top, was really fast, and was really bumpy. There was a windshield, and a cloth top that went over it when it rained, and a pole where they could mount a machine gun; but it was pretty barebones beyond that.

Its main appeal was its low maintenance, low cost, and high speed.

Hannah and Rael buckled the straps, then Hannah floored it; jolting the car from 0 to 100 in just a few seconds. Rael grabbed his seat but said nothing, trying to hide his terror. "So how is your bid for the throne going?" she asked.

"It's going okay, please focus on the road." He replied, a slight waver in his voice.

"That's good, Jane's always wanted to be friends with a princess, and John always wanted to marry one. Guess they'll be getting their wish." She nodded, not really paying attention.

"That's great! _OH KHEELAH! TRUCK!_" Rael Screamed.

Hannah looked at him and frowned, before swerving around it without blinking an eye.

"Nervous about going to the front lines? I don't blame ya really; it's a nightmare, but we got a few vets from the New Athens Rebellion. They're saying it's not so bad in comparison. Don't rightly know how they can say that when we got civies picking up guns left and right." Hannah noted.

If Hannah had been driving like a sane person, Rael would have commented on how baffling that observation was. As it stood, he was trying not to scream and vomit in his helmet at the same time.

Hannah nodded as he gave a loud grunt from the effort of not passing out.

"Yeah I felt the same way when I heard it. You know I expect an invitation to your coronation if you get put in by the way."

"YOU'RE INVITED!" Rael Screamed in reply.

Hannah looked at him again, and beamed; not seeing another Jumper heading for them, the driver's eyes bugging out of his head as he laid on the horn. "Thanks Rael." She said, before shifting her attention back to the road.

She swerved again, as the other Jumpers horn rapidly faded into the distance.

"Hmph, New Yorkers; always using their horns for everything. Back home its proper driving etiquette to only use the horn if the person in front of you is being an idiot. I don't get people who use self-driving cars really; sure it's nice when you're on long trips, but it just doesn't feel right when you're at home." She rambled.

"TREE!"

Hannah lurched over into the other lane as a tree fell onto the road. As she did that, a tank came onto the road. Saying nothing, Hannah swerved around the tank; Tokyo drifting on the dirt road.

"You know, these Jumpers are pretty responsive; reminds me of a story a friend of mine named Chris told me when I was in basic. He used to own a Dodge 2050 Camaro and the thing was pretty high maintenance, so he sold it and bought a 2041 Chevy Corvette.

Got himself some temporary tags and went to the local government office and got his permanent tags.

As he was leaving he pulled up to a stoplight behind another sports car, and went "Hey, I think that's Bobby." Bobby was good friend from his work, married with a kid; really nice guy, never met him though. Well Chris decided that he was gonna blow Bobby's doors off, car junkie slang for blasting by him while going 100 miles per hour.

Problem was that he wasn't used to his corvettes handling. His Camaro handled like a land ship from what Chris told me. He turned left, it would lazily drift to the left. You get what I'm saying?" She asked.

"Y-yes, how far from the city?" Rael choked out.

"Still a few minutes, anyway Chris's corvette handled way differently. He floored it, and jerked his wheel left; only problem was that it was way more responsive. He jerked the wheel left, the car went left and was now pointed at the guard rail. Well he panicked and jerked the wheel right to correct it. The car went right, and was now pointed at his friends car. His thoughts before hitting the car? 'Yup that's Bobby.' CRASH!" Hannah shouted, Causing Rael to clench up even more in his seat; if that was even possible.

Hannah started cackling at the story, so much so she took her hands off the steering wheel for a second to hold her belly.

"And it gets better! He went tumbling around, totaled his car; but no one was hurt, so everything's good right? Nope!

Chris got out of the car, looked at Bobby to see if he was all right. Bobby's in the driver's seat, but in the passenger seat is this smoking hot woman, that isn't his wife! Well Chris goes, 'ahhhh… hi Bobby.' Jaw on the ground and everything." Hannah started cackling even more.

"It gets better still, right at that moment; Bobby's wife comes driving down the other side of the highway. She parks on the side, gets out, see's all the cop cars and ambulances; then see's this woman in his passenger seat.

Well after everything starts to get sorted out Chris walks up to him and goes, 'Well… I'm really sorry about this Bobby. What has your wife said to you?' and Bobby just says with a completely straight face, 'my wife has other legal options available to her.'" Hannah was laughing so much now she had tears in her eyes.

Rael was leaning back in his seat now, trying not to throw up.

"Well they don't see each other for a few years, then Chris runs into Bobby again while out at a conference. He felt really bad about the whole thing, but he had rationalized the whole thing thinking 'well… the marriage was clearly already falling apart by that point, all I did was just push it along. He's probably happier now.' No such luck, only thing holding that relationship together had been the kid, and all the accident did was make things difficult.

But everything worked out in the end." Hannah said, finishing her story while gasping for air.

* * *

Rael could see the city limits, and finally Hannah began to slow down to a somewhat reasonable speed; allowing Rael to relax and ease up his prayers to the ancestors for safety. Hannah's mood turned grim.

"Turians got a death grip on the city; we've been fighting house by house, floor by floor. Knock 'em all down Williams calls it. There's me, in charge of the Marines in the area; there's Major Perez, in charge of the American Armor. There's Major Molotov, in charge of the Russian Shock Troopers; and there's Captain Hideo for the Japanese Army troops." Hannah shook her head sadly.

"The grinds taking a toll on us all; me, Molotov, Perez, Hideo? None of us have seen eye to eye ever since we got here. We respect each other, and acknowledge the others capabilities, but we all think our ways the best. It's why General Williams is here, to make sure we don't start infighting and all that." She explained, pulling through a small wooden gate that some Americans were attending.

They gave quick salutes to Hannah, and stared at Rael as they drove past. Hannah waved and drove up to a line of parked Jumpers.

"Time for beans and bullets Rael." Hannah said, grabbing her helmet and putting it on.

They started walking before stopping, there were two groups; one was full of Confederate, American, Russian, and Japanese enlisted men. All were chatting and milling about, but were giving concerned glances towards the other group of men; the officers.

Hannah, with Rael following, walked over to the group of enlisted men; her Sergeant-Major noticing her.

He didn't call attention to her as they were in a combat zone, nor did he salute; just giving a respectful nod. "How are things in orbit?" He asked, looking directly at Rael.

"It's going well, we've established fleet supremacy; and the Russian, American, and Polish fleets have all started blockading the Relays; which should free up Captain McHale's Wolfpacks for more convoy raiding." Rael said, allowing a bit of vindictive pleasure leak into his voice.

"How are things going here?" Hannah asked the Sergeant, as the sounds of distant artillery shells and machine gun fire reached her ears.

The man shook his head as aggravated shouts reached their ears, "The usual." He replied.

Hannah turned to the group of officers, seeing Major Robert Perez yelling at Major Molotov; "If Williams tells us to do it; it is the goddamned mission!" he bellowed.

Hannah shook her head, "We'll be back Sar-Major, I need to break that up."

The man nodded, and then turned his attention back to the enlisted folk. Hannah and Rael walked over as Molotov began his own retort, "I don't care what Williams wants. I answer to the Russian Army and the GRU, not a Confederate Marine; and I outrank you, and I'm telling you to support our push up to the CP with your tanks!"

Hannah shook her head; Molotov was a good man, but he could be bullheaded when he wanted something done his way. They all were truthfully; and it all traced back to the Confederate constitution.

In theory, the Confederate Government superseded the Nation-States on issues of law until the Supreme Court ruled otherwise if challenged. In Practice, they were relatively equal in terms of power; although the Nation-States had to work together to make that happen and most still hated each other. They just distrusted the Confederacy more; the government initially being nothing more than a defense-trade treaty between the US, Poland, and Israel post American civil war and WWIII.

Only until humanity started expanding into the stars did the Confederacy become something more.

"Comrade Molotov, you agreed to subordinate yourself under General Williams for the duration of your stay on Palaven." Captain Sato Hideo reminded the man, very clearly exasperated.

Molotov rounded on him, exclaiming; "I did not agree to follow up with boneheaded strategies!" He snapped.

Hannah walked up and held up her hands between them. "Gentlemen, calm yourselves." She soothed before turning to Molotov, "What happened this time Sergei?" She asked.

Molotov huffed before crossing his arms; "Williams wants me to assault the State Theatre tomorrow at 0600; when we haven't even secured the local apartment complex near it. I want Perez to support me, but he says Williams wants him to cover the flank."

Hannah thought it over for a moment before turning to Perez; "Can't you at least spare a few armored vehicles to help give him support?" She asked.

Perez shook his head, "Can't do it; we're stretched thin as it is. Best I can do is to move a few tanks to the State Theatre if he needs backup; can't do anything more beyond that, and I'm not moving my tanks before the assault because the Turian Armor is right where we want them. We move, they move." He explained. "Plus, Turian antitank guns are littered throughout the route between my position and the Theatre. We'll get eaten up if we try to move without support."

"Williams has put me in reserve, if there a break in the line somewhere he's deploying me; so I can't help in this matter." Hideo added.

Hannah nodded slowly then said, "How about this? I send half my Company with Perez to clear buildings of anti-tank units, and the other half goes with Sergei to give him more manpower."

The group thought it over, and all began nodding; "Sounds good Captain; but you'll have to run it by General Williams first." Perez replied.

Molotov grunted, "So long as I get the extra manpower I care not."

Hannah nodded and the group walked over to the nearby building, having been turned into a command post. As they walked in, Rael decided to ask, "Do you think Williams will go for it?"

Hideo chuckled at the question; "Williams loves every plan that comes out of Shepherds mouth, of course he'll say yes."

* * *

"I can't fucking believe that idiot said no." Perez growled as the group walked away from the building.

"At least you'll be getting all of Hannah's command to help you Sergei." Sato said trying to remain optimistic, although there was still a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Sergei snorted in response, "Yes, in exchange for having almost no guaranteed tank support; that's a really fucking great trade." He grumbled sarcastically.

Rael shook his head, "Let's be honest with ourselves, we didn't exactly do much to try and convince him or sway him to our line of thinking; ah… if life were one of those video games I would have said we failed some dialogue options." He said, trying to inject some humor into the moment, but failing miserably. The scowl that could be seen even behind his mask didn't help matters either.

Hannah said nothing as they walked past the line of trucks and Jumpers; then she noticed the multinational group of enlisted men.

"What kind of _Болван _doesn't open a sugar report?" A Shock Trooper asked one of the Confederate Marines, who was holding an actual paper letter.

"The kind that thinks it's a 'dear john.'" An American Tanker answered for him.

"See the address? She wrote 'Robertson' not 'Hal.' Only one reason to be so formal; I'm sorry to say my friend, but I think she's letting you go." A Japanese Army woman noted.

That little tidbit seemed to crush the man as his shoulders sagged slightly; other troopers and marines shaking their heads as they loaded gear and equipment onto the trucks.

"Hey maybe it's a little like Schrödinger's letter; you don't open it, she's still your girl." One Confederates said, a little too eagerly for one of the Russians it seemed.

The man walked over and dope slapped him on the helmet. "'Maybe it's a bit like Schrödinger's letter;' _Ебать тупица _what the hell's wrong with you." He chastised.

Right at that moment Hannah's pent up anger at Williams broke. "QUIT SCREWING AROUND!" She roared, causing everyone to freeze and instinctively snap to attention; even Rael, Sato, Segei, and Robert did so, their eyes widening and mouths dropping slightly in disbelief.

They had never seen Hannah so angry before.

Hannah looked around at the thirty or so men and women gathered around in a semicircle around the trucks, now looking at her and looking like they were trying not to piss their pants. "Marines, we're hitting the State Theatre with the Shock Troopers at 0600 tomorrow." She informed them before storming off, walking towards one of the Jumpers to drive Rael back to Adair Field.

Perez shook his head; Hideo bowed his, while Molotov gave a soft whistle.

"Everybody has their limits Comrades… Everybody." Was all Sergei said before walking off.

Rael looked down, _Everyone's reaching their breakpoint now, something has to give; the question now is what._

* * *

**A/N: You guys didn't have much to say on the previous chapter it seems. That's either really good, or really bad from a writer's perspective; Really good, because you guys didn't seem to have any criticisms; and really bad, because it seems that nothing really stood out to the readers.**

**For Hannah and Raels drive… well you can see where Shepherd gets their infamous driving skills from. She's from Baltimore, so driving like crazy is to be expected. The three worst cities you can go to in the United States when it comes to driving are Boston, NYC, and Baltimore.**

**Boston is the Purge; everyone thinks that turn signals are signs of weakness and give information to the enemy, and it's like someone dropped a plate of spaghetti on a map and decided to commit it to memory. Someone rear ended me once while I was going 70 MPH, broke my taillight, and then took off and passed me while blowing their horn at me.**

**New York City is like Mad Max; everyone's always angry with you and you can go anywhere, but you ain't getting there while driving. Went there once for a school trip, got on the bus to leave the city at 7:00 PM, and didn't get out of the city until midnight.**

**And Baltimore is like Idiocracy; everyone either doesn't care about or are too stupid to care about how to drive properly, and to top it off you take one wrong turn and it's likely your car will get shot up. Everyone drives in packs, and if you aren't going the right speed you will either get stuck behind the pack, or they'll blow your doors off and leave you in the dust.**

**That Story Hannah told by the way is completely true, and I know the guy it happened to. I just changed some names around, and that was it.**

**The Zorah's being related to Kings and Queens was a decision to both appeal to my liking for the idea, and also give a reason for Tali to be seen as royalty by Quarians; also a bit of foreshadowing and a bit of a reference to another good ME Xover, "Mass Effect; Human Revolution."**

**The scene where Hannah chews out the enlisted men was a reference to COD: WW2. Say what you will about the game, I liked the campaign. Yeah it could have been a little more ballsy with its story telling; done more with the concentration camps, expanded the Omaha beach landings, covered more of the racism between the protagonists unit and a supporting characters unit of African Americans etc. **

**Watch "The Act Man; Why COD WW2 is so bad." And you'll pretty much get my exact feelings on that game.**

**Well… Please start up a TV Tropes page guys, I want one so bad; and I'm not allowed since I made this story.**

**PM if you're interested in doing fanart, or if you're interested in collaborating; I also take requests, but I may or may not accept them.**

**Please leave a review; it's what lets me improve on this story and as a writer.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	27. Skill and Guts

_This footage was extracted from Confederate TV Docu-drama "Bloody Palaven." Please keep in mind that the events depicted through these computer generated animations are dramatized with Confederate and Quarian accounts. As such, these accounts are to be taken with a certain amount of suspicion; thank you for your patience. –Asari Matriarch Esi T'varia, Known for her disdain of Humanity and the Quarian people._

**January 15****th****, 2233; Palaven, 1600 hours**

Four NF-59 Chariot Fighter-Bombers from the UCNS _Enterprise_ rip through the sky, call sign Cadillac flight. They are led by Lt. SG. William Strong. On his right is Cadillac-3, Element Lead Lt. SG. Juna'Shaes vas Enterprise.

Their mission is to find Turian Anti-Aircraft sights and destroy them; clearing the way for a massive strike force comprised of over two hundred bombers and fighters, Confederate, Quarian, and Nation-State fleet carriers providing the aircraft.

For 'Shaes and Strong, it's their first mission since the fleets return to Palaven. Both Aviators keep their heads on the swivel, knowing full well the Turians are likely to meet them before they complete the mission.

But they know the risks, and the safety of the strike force relies on them taking out as many anti-aircraft sights as possible. Armed with Six air-to-ground Bombs, two air-to-air missiles, and her cannons; 'Shaes is not in position to dogfight, but soon she'll be forced to.

"_The weather was absolutely beautiful; if it had been a little clearer you could have seen the capitol from where we were, that's how clear it was." -Lt. Cmdr. Juna'Shaes_

As they cross into enemy airspace, they begin dropping the laser guided bombs; destroying Turian missile sights and clearing the way for the strike force. Then the peaceful monotony of the mission is shattered. A flight of six Turian interceptors bounces them from 3 o'clock high. 'Shaes spots the danger and calls a right break, but the lead element breaks left; in an instant, flight integrity is compromised.

Strong orders 'Shaes and her wingman, Albert Smiley, to fall back and regroup.

The two jets turn south, out of the combat zone. But as they move out of enemy airspace, 'Shaes spots something moving close to the ground.

"_I saw the movement, I called it out as a bogey; Smiley came back and said, 'I don't see it, you take it, I've got you covered.'" _

The Bogey is heading north in the opposite direction. 'Shaes decides to do a split-S to rapidly reverse direction and drop in behind the bandit; the speed her Comet builds in the dive will easily allow her to catch up with the bogey. 'Shaes snaps the stick over and firewalls the throttle; the move is so sudden that Smiley doesn't see where 'Shaes is heading.

"_Albert came back and said, 'I've lost you which way did you go.' I said, 'I went straight down, c'mon down and see if you can find me.'"_

The Comet screams through the air rapidly accelerating past 2200 miles per hour, cracking Mach 3; it's not uncommon for a space born aircraft like the Comet to break or exceed Mach 3 in an in-atmospheric dive, but its flight controls are ill equipped to handle such speeds while in an atmosphere.

'Shaes knows that the Comet needs at least 20,000 ft. to pull out of a vertical dive in atmosphere; but she's already dropped below 18,000 ft.

"_For navy Aviators, they forget that in Atmosphere dogfighting is very different to space born battles. When in an Atmosphere, your speed can get away from you, and you lose controllability of your airplane. You can use speed breaks, rock your aircraft back and forth to dissipate speed, but if you can't slow down fast enough, you die." –President Johnathon Grant regarding navy Aviators, Pre-Election._

* * *

_**-Commercial Breaks**_

_**-Skipping… (Fast Forward X10)**_

_**-Resuming…**_

* * *

January 15th, 2233; Navy Lieutenant Senior Grade Juna'Shaes vas Enterprise is diving towards a Turian Interceptor that is hugging the ground. 'Shaes biggest concern at the moment isn't the bandit, but terra firma; rushing up at her at over 2,000 feet per second.

Self-preservation is now the only thing that matters.

'Shaes pulls back on the stick, hard; she grunts like a weightlifter to keep from blacking out. The force of ten times the pull of standard Quarian Gravity instantly inflates her G-Suit; gripping her legs and abdomen. For a moment, her body weighs over 1,300 pounds.

"_I suddenly realized, Breathe! You're not breathing! Well the reason_ _I wasn't breathing was because my G-Suit had swollen up due to the G load in the pullout, and I couldn't get any air into my lungs." -Lt. Cmdr. Juna'Shaes._

The horizon slowly slides into view outside her canopy; 'Shaes is alive, by only inches. She's probably bent her airplane, but she's still flying.

The Turian is now directly in front of her, still hugging the treetops.

'Shaes is gaining rapidly on the Turian interceptor; then, mind a shattering realization.

"_I looked and I could see one aircraft, in a split second I could see two, then four. Then the four multiplied into another four, and the eight multiplied into another eight and then another eight."_

'Shaes discovers that there are over forty Turian Interceptors off her nose. She's on her own, the usual tactics don't apply; she'll have to rely on her skill and instinct to get out of this alive. The forty Turians begin climbing up, to 'Shaes horror she realizes that they are heading for the strike force; 'Shaes must do something to disrupt their attack.

Still carrying a 500 mile per hour speed advantage from her bone chilling dive, 'Shaes rapidly closes to within effective missile range. She singles out the leader of the forty aircraft.

"_I decided that I would take the lead aircraft because he would have the most experience; and cut the Varren loose rather than the other way around."_

To her frustration, she can't lock onto the leader with her only two missiles onboard; deciding to compromise, she locks on to the Leaders wingmen while using her guns to draw a bead on the leader. She rapidly closes to within 6000 meters of the pack of aircraft, gun range.

She presses the button and squeezes the trigger.

Both missiles fly up the tails of the two wingmen and blow their Eezo based engines clean off, the two aircraft drop out of the sky; the rest of the Turians scatter, the leader breaking hard right to shake Juna off his tail. 'Shaes throws the stick over to stay with him.

"_Something else Aviators forget, is how athletic an endeavor it is to get into an in-atmosphere dogfight. You go from weighing around 150 pounds to around 1,300 pounds in a split second and having that weight on you for around 40 to 50 seconds is unbelievably taxing on the body and mind. _

_In space, you're limited to how fast can your craft accelerate and turn. _

_In-atmosphere you have to consider the planets gravity, the maximum altitude you can fly without leaving the atmosphere, the maximum weight of ordinance and ammo your craft can take and the how much it affects your ability to maneuver. And above all, how much stress your craft can take." –President Johnathon Grant regarding space dogfights to atmospheric dogfights, Pre-Election._

'Shaes strains to keep her head upright and outside her canopy.

"_I was somewhere between nine to nine and a half G's; and then, *CLAP*, the light on my HUD quit. The radar, fuel state, altitude, angle of attack; and most importantly my gunsight, the reticle and the piper all disappeared." -Juna'Shaes_

Either a fuse has blown, or some wires have been knocked loose. Not surprising considering the amount of abuse thrown at the Comet in the last seventy or so seconds.

"_It was very irritating to say the least; I'm relying on it, I'm depending on it to be there for me and then all of a sudden it quits and I'm stuck with the mechanical backups."_

There's no time to dwell on it, Juna is in serious danger of overtaking the Turian Interceptor. Her worst possible mistake would be to overshoot. She chops her power to idle, pops her speed breaks, and does a barrel roll to bleed off airspeed and stay in trail.

"_I had to slow down fast to keep myself from overshooting him; if I slipped past him then he would have blown me out of the sky. So I rolled over the top and left it in trail of him and we wound up pretty much canopy to canopy."_

The Turian Commander counters Shaes moves, he's no slouch. The two craft begin a deadly aerial ballet, twisting around each other scant feet off the ground.

The two pilots are in a rolling scissors, slowing down in hopes of making the other slip out front, the Turians interceptors lacking V-TOL capabilities of the rest of their air corps; the only way to make the other overshoot is to gradually reduce their speeds to the razors edge of sustainable flight.

"_I look up and I can see him straining in his cockpit, and I can even see the Commanders rank on his shoulder pads."_

'Shaes uses stick and throttle with just enough power; The Turian Commander does the same. Coordination is vital, and someone is bound to slip up. It's the Turian Pilot; he adds to much throttle in his roll and slides ahead of 'Shaes.

"_And I thought, 'Metal head that cost you.' So I booted hard right rudder, applied aileron and slid in behind him. Immediately the next thing that went through my mind was 'I'm gonna ram him!'"_

'Shaes is now mere feet from the Interceptors glowing engines, her Comet is thumped hard by the Turians Eezo-Wash. It's too close to shoot, and too close for comfort; she retires the throttle to gain distance and backs off.

"_I trailed back to a more comfortable distance, squeezed the trigger and hit him; then he zigged off to the right, and I stayed with him."_

But the Turian Commander is not about to accept his fate just yet.

"_He rolled underneath __towards__ the ground, which caught me completely off guard; I was not expecting him to do that at all."_

The Turian snap rolls downward to quickly change direction, trying to regain the advantage while hoping his Eezo-Wash will keep the Comet at bay. 'Shaes stays with him, but she must avoid the Eezo stream. The radioactive blasts could rip her plane apart, or force it downward; and as low as they are there's no room to recover.

But Lt. 'Shaes is not about to give up now.

* * *

_**-Commercial Breaks**_

_**-Skipping… (Fast Forward X10)**_

_**-Resuming…**_

* * *

January 15th, 2233; Quarian Navy Lieutenant Senior Grade Juna'Shaes vas Enterprise is in hot pursuit of a Turian Air Corps Commander, literally. The surprisingly skilled Turian has already forced her into several death defying maneuvers, including a downward roll extremely close to the ground.

"_I stayed on him, and as I was following him he went to go and do it again, and I said 'I'm not letting you catch me with that again.'" -Lt. Cmdr. Juna'Shaes_

As the Turian Commander snap rolls again, 'Shaes will do a barrel roll; it's a bold maneuver that will allow her to cut inside the Turians turn while keeping her clear of the Eezo trail.

"_I went over the top of the roll, so I was sitting there waiting for him as he tucked under that roll; and I was right behind him when he came out of it, and then I let him have it."_

'Shaes blasts the Turian from point balk range. The Interceptor lights up like a roman candle.

Then the craft slams into a hill and explodes.

After an exhausting contest, 'Shaes claims victory; but there's no time to celebrate. A quick glance over her shoulder reveals the entire Turian formation made up of the thirty-seven remaining aircraft closing in from above to avenge their fallen comrades.

"_Well 'Shaes has gone and committed several cardinal fighter pilot sins; don't push your aircraft to its breaking point, don't engage without your wingman, don't get fixation on the target. And that is exactly what she's done. Yes, she's saved the strike force, but now she's alone and surrounded by enemies deep in enemy territory." –Robert Leaply, Military Historian._

Juna is on her own, but she's determined to protect the strike force.

She jams the stick to the left, the Comet responds smartly. She yanks back on the stick, throwing her Comet into a crushing high G turn. The Turians attempt to hold the turn, but their too fast. Thirty break off their pursuit, remembering their objective; the uncompromising discipline of the Turian hierarchy overriding their sense of revenge.

But seven stay to fight the lone Quarian.

'Shaes knows she can't win this fight. She lights her afterburner, and accelerates away in a hard turn. Then one Turian craft explodes, another tries to climb only to have his engine blown clean off. A third tries to slash into Juna's turn, only to be ripped to shreds.

Juna yanks back on the stick, throwing her Comet into a dizzying loop; dropping onto two more Turians. She walks her shots through the wingman, ripping off the Turians wing and sending him out of control.

The other accelerates away, trying to escape. 'Shaes fires into his fuselage, catching the Turian interceptor on fire. Juna watches as the panicked Turian attempts to eject from his burning plane, barely ten feet off the ground.

The Turians chute fails to deploy; his body, still attached to the seat impacts the ground, and bounces. Juna witnesses the grim sight.

"_I watched as he got separation from the plane, but didn't get separation from his seat. He hit the ground, and from my point of view it looked like with his first bounce he went over the right wing of my Comet. O the second bounce he went sailing into the wreckage of his Interceptor… This was not a pleasant sight to say the least." -_ _Juna'Shaes_

The remaining two Turians rapidly pull up and accelerate away, they've had enough.

'Shaes looks away from the fleeing Turians to see the rest of Cadillac flight forming up on her wings. Together, the flight moves to escort her home; they've delivered punishing blows to the enemy anti-aircraft defenses, and they stalled the Turian interceptors long enough to allow the strike force to hit their targets.

And Lt. Senior Grade Juna'Shaes vas Enterprise has claimed five victories; she's an ace in one afternoon, but the victory is bittersweet.

"_Only a few months before my twenty fourth lifeday and I've and ace, and I've gone through the most harrowing ordeal in my life. I just witnessed a sentient body bouncing along the ground; you know we've always believed that air combat is solely machine against machine, and we don't get to see the blood and the guts very often." _

Juna'Shaes has just experienced the grim reality of in-atmosphere combat, and it's not something she will soon forget.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah this was a bit of a filler chapter, but I hope it was still enjoyable. **

**You know I think I'm one of the few people not a veteran who knows just how stressful dogfighting can be. I've said before that I fly a Fokker D.7, well one time I flew in a mock dogfight because the normal guy they had got really bad food poisoning; so I got tapped in.**

**In reenactments, we practice endlessly to avoid accidents happening; but it's still stressful as hell. Even with a simple WW1 biplane, the maneuvering is so taxing. **

**I am 5'7" to 5'7.5" and I weigh about 130 pounds. In those turns I would go from weighing 130 pounds, to weighing about 520 pounds in a split second and I would have to hold that weight for about a minute. **

**Before you ask, I know how to dogfight because the flight school I practiced and trained at was run by a bunch of retired Air Force pilots and Navy Aviators. Piece of advice, if you value your teeth NEVER refer to a Navy Aviator as a Pilot, and vice versa. **

**I was trying to show in this chapter that the Quarians may be working with the Confederacy, but they aren't adapting to their tech as much as you would think. No sane person who knows the limits of their aircraft would attempt what Juna just did with her Comet, and had Juna been familiar with her Comets limitations in-atmosphere she wouldn't have tried it.**

**Still, she stopped the Turians from intercepting the joint Confederate-Quarian-Nation State strike force. She'll be due for a medal, that's for sure.**

**Okay, I'm gonna post this and go lie down. I have a headache cause I actually convinced my old man to let me go up in the Fokker we typically rent and try the maneuvers I used in this chapter. Holy crap I forgot how taxing it is to get into a dogfight. I actually bashed my head against the instrument panel because I did that snap roll maneuver, and the G-Load was way higher than I thought it would be.**

**I'm fine, don't worry about me.**

**Okay… I would really like a TV Tropes page, and considering the amount of effort I put into making this chapter, I feel like I deserve it.**

**PM if you want to do fanart.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I ya.**


	28. The Ryan Doctrine

**A/N: Word of warning, this chapter is going to be a little… grisly. And there has been a time skip as well, if the date didn't make that obvious. **

**Edit: Serious mistake; current time is 2235, not 2234. Flashback is still in December of 2233.**

**January, 2235; The Citadel**

"_In a few weeks, President Johnathon A. Grant will take the oath of office for his second term as President of the United Confederacy. Many credit the liberation of Shanxi as the deciding factor in his Reelection; however the Turian Hierarchy has continued to reject any proposals given to them by the Confederacy. _

_Coalition Forces made up Quarian, Confederate, and Nation-State ships and personnel have made steady progress on Palaven. But the Turian Primarchs have sworn that they will fight to the death before they surrender the planet. _

_In other news, the economy continues to boom and stock prices continue to increase. The last of the Fascist New Athenian Rebels have finally been captured just last month, and will be tried for war crimes and treason in the Supreme Court._

_The Asari and Salarian governments have continued to attempt to pressure the Confederate government to reopen negotiations after the last attempt broke down this past December after the fall of Palavens Capitol, and the Turian delegation walked out. The Asari and Salarian economy however has begun to falter as they are unable to trade with the Turian Hierarchy along with continued refusals by the senate to allow Asari companies into the Confederacy."_

_**BREAKING NEWS**_

"_Sorry for the interruption Sharon, we've just received word that there has been a Riot on the Citadel; an angry mob of Turians, Asari, and Salarians stormed the lower wards of the Citadel and attacked a small community of Quarian Pilgrims. _

_We are currently bringing you live footage taken from the Citadel News Network._

_Oh my word… you can see C-SEC doing its best to contain the situation and- OH MY GOD!_

_I am so sorry ladies and gentleman; I am… I am stunned that this is occurring right before our very eyes. That poor Quarian will surly die from that infection if the crowd doesn't kill him."_

"_Bill, I have just received an official statement from the white house; I will read it aloud for our viewers and listeners in Confederate, Quarian, and Citadel Space. 'From the President, the Grant administration would like to remind the Citadel Council and the Governments of their client races, specifically the Turian Hierarchy, Salarian Union, and Asari Republics; that this administration will not hesitate in enforcing The Ryan Doctrine should the Governments fail in their duties.' _

_As a reminder to viewers and listeners, The Ryan Doctrine states, as originally created by United States President Jack Ryan Sr. during the 21__st__ century, that the United Confederacy will not tolerate attacks on 'our territory, our possessions, or our citizens,' and added that whoever orders such an attack will be held accountable by the United Confederacy and be punished accordingly."_

"_That's a pretty straightforward statement by the President, Janice; let's hope the Council understands its meaning. We'll give you more updates as the situation develops."_

* * *

Sparatus switched off the holoscreen and looked out from his apartment in the upper wards. However much he may have disliked Grant and his administration, he had to give credit where credit was due; the man didn't waste time with politics.

Sparatus liked to imagine a world where humanity and the Turian Hierarchy didn't get off to such a bad start. He and Grant probably would have been friends.

He shook his head sadly, the last hope the Council had in ending this war in a favorable position had not come to pass. Jahee and the STG had estimated that if Grant's reelection bid had failed, then the fragile Confederate Coalition would fall apart. Up until recently, the Nation-States of Earth had been the only thing keeping Humanity in the fight.

Now the STG estimated that the Confederacy had over two thousand new ships under construction, in comparison to the 500 or so that were estimated last year.

The STG believed that Grant was the only thing keeping the Coalition together; and if he wasn't reelected, they could strong arm the new president into accepting a treaty favorable to the Citadel. That sounded good on paper, but Sparatus had known it was wishful thinking for three reasons.

One, the confederacy had already started liberating worlds; jump starting Grants popularity.

Two, the way the Confederates election system worked made it impossible for tampering to be effective. On top of having AI's safeguarding the vote counters, the Electoral College ensured that simply adding a million votes to one candidate did not mean instant win.

And three, the President didn't accept treaties anyway. It was mind boggling to Sparatus that Jahee and Tevos didn't get it, but the President couldn't help any Treaty pass through their Senate beyond giving it his public approval.

How was it that someone like him, where leadership was a form of Meritocracy, could understand the concept; yet someone like Tevos, who came from a democratic republic no less, didn't understand?

It was baffling.

_The Ryan Doctrine,_ when Grant had first put that out in one of his speeches during his reelection campaign, everyone in Council space had been thoroughly confused as to the meaning behind it.

The mass confusion was only solved when Ambassador Benezia asked Grant directly what it meant. After Grant had explained the meaning behind it, all of the elites in the Presidium and the Council Races governments had laughed it off; surely he must have been joking? You could never hold one individual responsible for the actions of a whole group or even race.

Everyone except Sparatus; he had read Earths history, and he knew Grant personally. He had even watched a few documentaries regarding his exploits over New Athens.

The man was ruthless to those that he thought had crossed the line.

As if to prove a point, Grant held a press conference, with it being broadcasted live to billions of people. The Councilors had been in a public meeting with the ambassadors of the Citadels client races, with a lot of influential people in the spectator's booth.

He still remembered that day clear as water.

* * *

**Flashback, November 2233; the Presidium, Council Chambers.**

"Councilors this is an outrage! You cannot force the Batarian Hegemony into stopping its expansion into other worlds, simply because this upstart race ordered you too." The Batarian ambassador roared, while Sparatus tried his best to not look bored.

"Ambassador, please calm yourself; as we have explained before, we cannot afford a full scale war with the United Confederacy and the Human Nation-States. It will destroy our economies Ambassador and if-" Tevos started explaining for what felt like the hundredth time.

"_Councilors." _A voice interrupted.

They turned and saw Ambassador Benezia's hologram, having suddenly appeared. Many of the spectators shifted uneasily, while the Batarian Ambassador looked absolutely livid at being cut off.

"Yes Ambassador T'Soni? What is it?" Tevos asked, looking a little annoyed at the interruption, but she hid it well.

"_I have a message from President Grant; in five minutes he will be holding a press conference that will be broadcasted live across the galaxy. The subject is regarding General Desolas Arterius. The Confederacy is requesting that in exchange for reopening negotiations, the Council hand over General Arterius to be tried for war crimes." _Benezia said, she paused as murmurs and discontented whispers spread throughout the presidium.

"_They want their answer within the next five minutes; failure to answer in time will be taken as a refusal."_ Benezia warned, unease spreading across her face.

Tevos looked at Jahee, while Sparatus barked out a laugh. "Surely they jest? No! Absolutely not, we will not give up one of our people just for the 'promise' of a possibility of peace." He snapped angrily.

"Did the President tell you what he intended to do if we refused?" Tevos asked calmly.

Benezia's unease seemed to grow,_ "He said that refusal will result in the immediate enforcement of the 'Ryan Doctrine' councilors. And he has evidence; he sent it all to you a week ago. And he told me that you all blew him off with an automated response."_

All the dignitaries and spectators up to that point had been quiet, some even considering the Presidents deal. As soon as the words "Ryan Doctrine" left Benezia's mouth, everyone started scoffing or laughing. Sparatus snorted, while Jahee rolled her eyes. He didn't need to see any of their so called "evidence" when it would be very clearly made up and faked.

"Ah yes, the 'Ryan Doctrine'… they seriously cannot expect us to take such an idea seriously. You can never punish one individual for the actions of a group. And this 'evidence' of theirs cannot be trusted, that's why we didn't review it. Their AI's almost certainly fabricated it." Sparatus scoffed.

Tevos spread her hands, gesturing for the spectators and her fellow councilors to quiet down. "A vote then, those in favor of not turning General Arterius over to the Confederacy?" She asked, while raising her hand.

Sparatus and Jahee did the same.

Benezia grimaced, unlike her superiors; she knew full well what their refusal entailed, _"I shall relay your response councilors, and I would recommend you watch his conference. The President told me you will see the 'Ryan Doctrine' be carried out to its fullest." _She said, before vanishing.

* * *

Tevos called a five minute recess, and several CSEC officers brought in a holoscreen and speakers so everyone in the room could see and hear what the President had to say. Sparatus found this unnecessary, but Jahee and Tevos overruled him. They felt it was best to get a read on how Grant was as a person, none of them having seen or spoken to him before.

When the five minutes were up, the screen turned on.

Everyone in the chamber fell silent, none of them were aware that what they were seeing was being viewed by the entire Confederacy, and easily half of Council space and the Terminus system.

The screen showed an empty podium, with the flag of the United Confederacy on one side; and the flag of President Grant's home country, The United States of America, on the other. From what Benezia told him, it was not uncommon for a human to feel just as much loyalty to their home Nation-State as they were to the Confederacy.

Then Grant walked in and stood in front of the podium, a holo-screen lighting up next to him. Several Males and Females walked up and stood next to him; most were dressed like him, black suit pants, a tie, black waistcoat, and a long black overcoat.

Sparatus took one look at Grant, and knew he was looking at a career soldier. His bearing, his rigid professionalism, and his stoicism were all telling.

Grant shuffled some notes on the desk, and looked up at the camera; he took out what Benezia had called glasses, which humans apparently used to help them read as they got older, and looked down at his notes before turning his attention back to the room filled with people.

Then he spoke._ "My fellow Humans and AI's; as I am sure you are aware, these past few years have been trying for everyone involved. But I am pleased to report that the war is now progressing in our favor. _

_Thanks to the endless dedication and effort of our servicemen and women, and the efforts of the Nation-States and our Quarian allies; I can safely say that the liberation of Shanxi is near._

_Which now requires us to turn to more unpleasant matters; what happens next._

_Well… I will start by reminding viewers and listeners that three years ago when I gave my thank you speech upon my victory at the election; I assured you all that any and all criminals and terrorists would be prosecuted and punished by the full might of the law. That any and all attacks on our people, interests, or territories would result in the punishment of those responsible_

_Responsibility… Politicians are always accused of giving false promises; and reality is oftentimes uglier than idealism. Better a guilty man go free, than an innocent man be put in jail; as many like to say. _

_Alas, the Citadel Council does not understand this mentality. That the guilty, and the guilty alone must pay for their crimes, rather than the innocent be dragged to their fate with them. They instead believe that all are culpable in the actions of one small group. _

_Our Quarian friends understand this reality all too well. Their ancestors were ordered to destroy the Geth when it was discovered they had become sentient; and were nearly exterminated for it. And what did the Quarians receive when their battered, homeless survivors escaped?_

_Praise for attempting to carry out their councils will? Sympathy for their loss?_

_No, we all know the answer. The actions of a select few, a select few that have long since turned to dust; resulted in their entire race be condemned to a slow, and agonizing death. _

_Almost 300 years ago at Nuremburg, Germany our ancestors set a precedent that we have carried forward to this day; that an entire country, or people, cannot be punished for the actions of small group of leaders; and that these leaders cannot be allowed to escape punishment for their actions._

_Granted… we did not always do well with enforcing this position; we are humans, not God. We aren't perfect. But we did the best we could; but these names, the ones that escaped their punishments on this earth will always haunt our dreams._

_Joseph Stalin, 20__th__ century Soviet Union. 60 million killed by his orders; died of a stroke._

_Mao Zedong, 20__th__ century Communist China. 45 million people killed under his reign; Heart Attack._

_Ayatollah Khomeini, 20__th__ century Iran. 30,000 people, including children as young as twelve killed in mass hangings; Heart Attack._

_Kim Il Sung, 20__th__ century north Korea. Low estimates put over 100,000 people killed in gulags; Natural Causes._

_Emperor Hirohito, 20__th__ century Japan. Between 20-30 million people were brutally killed in his name during world war two; allowed to keep his throne, and died of natural causes._

_Dr. Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death; 20__th__ century Nazi Germany. Unknown number of Twins, Jews, Roma, Poles, and Catholics died due to his twisted experiments during the holocaust, low estimates think a hundred a day; Escaped to Argentina, and lived out the rest of his life running an abortion clinic._

_And these are just to name a few; the few of many world leaders and commanders that escaped justice. Up until today, Turian General Desolas Arterius was on this list."_

Grant paused to take a sip of water.

Sparatus narrowed his eyes, he was comparing one of the finest and most respected Turians to what sounded like some of the most vile and wretched sentiments in existence. Spirits, even Krogan would be unnerved by the number of people that the scum listed had killed.

Jahee's mouth was hanging open, while Tevos looked sick.

Over a hundred million humans had died in the 20th century alone from the sounds of it, even the Krogan balked at such numbers. The spectators and the dignitaries looked unnerved, some looked ill. The Turians in the room looked enraged like Sparatus.

Grant in the meantime had resumed talking._ "General Desolas Arterius of the Turian Hierarchy; has been charged of over 100,000 civilians on Shanxi killed due to reckless tactics and lack of concern for civilian casualties even ordering an artillery strike on a civilian refugee center to kill wounded Confederates being housed there. _

_He ordered the termination of any and all civilians that happened to be armed with extreme prejudice; including the children and elderly. _

_Over 5,000 soldiers executed and dumped in mass graves after their surrender; and most damning of all, the execution of over 30,000 AI's from assorted colonies, almost all civilians, in cold blood. Some he carried out himself. If you will look to my left, my aides have begun posting photos captured by drones and by soldiers of Arterius's men carrying out these atrocities. _

_Not even infants were spared." _Grant stopped talking again, and bowed his head; the grief on his face was real, not even bothering to look at the pictures as they scrolled beside him.

Audible gasps, both inside the room where Grant was speaking and inside the chambers, made their way to Sparatus's ears. As much as Sparatus didn't want to admit it, the pictures pained him. Even if they were AI, the treatment they were given was downright cruel at points. One particularly horrifying video nearly made Sparatus vomit; it took all his Blackwatch training to make him keep his composure.

It was a Turians helmet camera footage.

An AI infant was being held by a human child, and the child was sobbing over the bodies of two adult humans; both of whom had holes in their chests. Then two Turians walked up and demanded that the child give them the AI. The child refused, the exchange lasted for several minutes, and then one of the Turians bashed her with the butt of his rifle.

The girls slumped for a moment, then staggered back into the kneeling position; glaring defiantly at the Turians despite the tears in her eyes.

The Turian went to do it again, and the soldier providing the footage intervened; trying to reason with his comrades.

Then an Eezo slug sliced through the Turians stomach.

The Turian staggered and fell to the ground, and lay on his back; the Girl crawling over to him, the infant AI still in her hands. General Arterius walked forward, holding his pistol; the Two Turians rapidly saluted.

After berating his two subordinates for wasting time, Arterius walked up and smacked the child so hard she fell to the ground; then grabbed then infant AI while the girl was stunned. He hoisted it up, coldly ignoring the squeals and wails coming from it as he glared down at the wounded Turian.

"_You attempted to protect this abomination? This shall be your reward traitor, and the savage shall share your fate." _He declared, jamming his pistol into the infant AI's chest and blasting its emitter. The thing shattered into a thousand fragments, and Sparatus would never forget the infants wail being cut off and echoing away.

Then the two Turians grabbed the wounded soldier, while two more grabbed the girl; who was catatonic at this point.

They tossed the two into a pit, while grabbing cans from a nearby gas station; some humans still stubbornly using fossil fuels as opposed to hydrogen. Then to Sparatus's growing horror, they began dumping it on the Turian and the girl; both having been tied up at this point.

Arterius glared at the soldier, saying _"This is what you deserve for consorting with these savages." _And shot the fuel with an incendiary round.

The Turian had either bled out, lost consciousness, or simply had given up. He did nothing as flames rushed up and consumed him, the girl on the other hand began screaming and flailing around as she was burned alive. The image of the girl burning to death would never leave Sparatus's mind.

The footage went black, no one said a word. Sparatus looked around, and was not surprised to find that his fellow councilors and many in the audience had not been able to keep their composure, or their stomachs.

Grant stared at his notes the whole while, wincing as he listened to the people in the press room vomit or whisper and sob in despair. After a few minutes of allowing people in the Press room to regain their composure, Grant asked;_ "May I continue?"_

After getting a reluctant acceptance from the people in the room, Grant went back to his speech.

"_I apologize that many of you had to see that. I myself wasn't able to eat or sleep for a few days when I saw this footage. I won't lie, it was sheer luck we recovered that last video by the time Army Troopers found them; the girl had been reduced to bone and ash. _

_The Turian, whom we still have not identified and likely never will, was already dead, but the upper half of his body was not completely burnt away; likely because they were not as thorough in dumping gasoline on him. We have decided to hold a ceremony for him at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier come this December._

_All of this damning footage and evidence was sent to the Citadel Council last week, with the request that they review and test it so they may see that we were not lying. And I would like to emphasize that everything we have found and collected was done as professionally and as apolitically as possible._

_The Councilors blew me off with an automated response."_

He paused again as cries of outrage filled the room he was in, and nodded as many began cursing the council. Sparatus looked around the council chamber; many of the elites were still horrified or remained silent, but many of the guests that were "lucky" enough to be in the chambers were now openly glaring at the Councilors.

Grant spread his hands and said, _"Peace please…" _it took a few moments, and then the press quieted down.

"_Ten minutes before this conference started, I contacted Ambassador Benezia and told her directly everything I have just told you. I told her to relay to the Councilors directly this message, that we were willing to reopen negotiations with the Turian hierarchy if they handed over General Arterius to be tried for his crimes._

_In fact, it was Arterius that started this whole war; Admiral Pompepilia Isarius, whom some of you have likely heard of by this point, was in charge of the first Turian fleet that came through Yankee Station. She wanted to wait and allow the Quarians to explain themselves, even send a first contact package to the Confederate fleet._

_Arterius countermanded her orders, and killed an entire Quarian patrol fleet and inflicted serious damage on Admiral Hackett's fleet. The Councilors refused to even consider the evidence, they even laughed at the idea of us enforcing the 'Ryan Doctrine'."_

Grant looked directly into the camera now; there was fire in his eyes now, they were almost glowing like a Quarians.

"_I know that the Councilors are watching this now, and I have this to say. Was this worth it? Was protecting a guilty man worth it to salvage your damaged pride?_

_Well then Councilors… This is the response of humanity to your refusal."_

The screen to his right turned back on, this time split between four different camera angles. One was from a scope, one was from a security camera, the last two were from the air; all were pointed at a house. An Asari house for that matter; and Sparatus could see the heat signatures inside. At least a dozen Turians, some were gathered around a table, some were asleep, one was presumably having sex with the lone Asari in the house; but he wasn't sure since it was being blurred by a censor.

"_A vacation home on Thessia, the Asari home world; General Arterius and his staff have spent the past three days here discussing plans for an invasion of Earth. We have been observing this residence ever since Arterius arrived there. The footage you are seeing now is from an International Affairs Agency Special Activities Division team, hacked security camera's, and footage from drones launched by a U-Boat in orbit. _

_There is General Arterius, who has been taking frequent visits from an Asari prostitute; and his general staff, and two guards who happen to be two of the Turians you saw in that footage from earlier."_

Grant looked at the Camera's again; _"This is the response of the United Confederacy to your blatant disregard for others views Councilors."_

He stopped talking, and the footage from the holoscreen to his right was superimposed on the screen.

There was a long pause, and everyone seemed to be leaning forward in their seats; sensing that something was about to happen, most ignoring that what was taking place was on a neutral planet.

Then a missile struck the house.

The massive explosion actually jostled the drones and the ground team; while the security camera footage winked out and was filled with static.

No one said a word for a moment, all staring at the death and destruction on the screen, and then Grant turned to the camera one final time. _"You may diplomatically protest for technically violating the Asari's neutrality councilors; but the fact of the matter is we don't care. _

_Let this be a warning to everyone in citadel space; we don't care for borders, for you species, for your supposed neutrality. If you cross us, if you kill our people and civilians, if you provoke us; it doesn't matter who you are, we will burn your world to the ground."_

Grant glared at the screen one final time and said; _"Good day Councilors." _And the screen went black. For a moment the chamber was still, then it was chaos.

* * *

**A/N: This… was not an easy chapter for me to write, I assure you. I felt vaguely ill while writing and editing; so if there's any errors, its likely because I didn't want to re-read this chapter again.**

**But I had to give the Confederacy just cause for enforcing the 'Ryan Doctrine' to the extent that they did. I understand the context of the 20****th**** century was messy and bloody, and a lot of the people I listed got away with their crimes because the reality was that it would cause even more death and destruction. **

**And I was also trying to show the dangers of insular thinking. **

**Had Sparatus and the councilors taken the time to review and verify the evidence Grant had sent them a week before rather than blowing him off; Arterius could have gotten a fair trial, and the Council would be seen in a more positive light for owning up to their mistakes.**

**Instead, the Confederacy had to publicly shame them, for lack of a better term, to get their point across and demonstrate why they had Arterius killed in such a public fashion in a technically neutral area. **

**And after seeing his crimes? No one in their right mind would fault humanity for it. Rather than admitting they had a bad apple, the Turians and the Council closed ranks; like they always do, and it cost them a lot of credibility this time.**

**Also… remember how I said I would resist using time skips because I thought they were a lazy man's way of handling rapid passage of time? Oops… **

**In my defense, I didn't realize that writers oftentimes have good reason for using timeskips. Once you run out of plot advancing chapters for that timeframe, you start wasting people's time. Most of the chapters have been just filler by this point, which I have been striving to avoid.**

**So here's a few dates for future reference; **

**-November 2229; President Grant is Elected as President of the People.**

**-January 2230; Grant is Sworn in as President. **

**-December 2231; First contact between Quarians and the Confederacy.**

**-January 2232; Quarian and Confederate governments sign non-aggression pact. Several Dextro based worlds are given to the Quarian population.**

**-Mid January 2232; Arterius overrules Isarius's orders and opens fire on the Quarians and the Confederates. The war has now started.**

**And you can figure the rest out from there. **

**Sigh… some days I feel like deleting this story and just publishing my own book, considering how little this follows ME canon; but then I remember that the whole plot of this fic is about how different the ME universe is when you change up humanity.**

**A fellow fanfic author said something in one of her stories that I like to think is true.**

**All the books, all of the literature made by the human race; even TV shows, movies, fanfics, games, etc. are really just humans subconsciously recording events taking place in other realities. **

**It sounds ridiculous, but if one thinks about it; there are an infinite number of universes, and each universe is infinite. With that in mind, it's statistically impossible for these events to not be happening somewhere in all of creation.**

**So in another universe, "A House Divided Amongst Itself" is reality; while our world is fiction. ****So in a sense, all writers are historians since we're recording events that take place. **

**If your head hurts, that means you're starting to understand. **

**So a word of warning, collage classes start next week; and I got Physics, Calc II, Engineering Statics, and Physics Lab. So updates are going to be really slow, just wanted to warn you guys.**

**Well then, please create a TV Tropes page guys, I beg you. I really want one, and like I said before; as the author of this story I'm not allowed to make it. Please!**

**Contact me if you're interested in doing Fanart.**

**I am considering taking fan submissions, but that may take a bit.**

**If you're interested in doing a collab with me, PM me.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	29. Alternate Timeline Chapter 1

**A/N: I've had several viewers complain about the United Confederacy being too "weak;" too "incompetent." That it's too Americanized/westernized in terms of culture. Be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it. **

**I decided to make an AU chapter for my AU. AU-inception! Hell yeah! I was heavily inspired by the TV show "The Man in the High Castle" when I was writing this chapter.**

**Only one thing happens that changes this universe into what it is in this chapter. I've alluded to multiple times the "2****nd**** American civil war" where the Constitutionalist/Libertarian/Democratic/Republicanism loyalist coalition defeats the Anarchist/Communist/Socialist/Authoritarian rebel coalition. Afterwards, they form the forerunner to the United Confederacy with Poland, Israel, Canada, Brazil, and United Kingdom.**

**In this case, the Authoritarian/Communist faction wins the civil war; and they ally with the only Communist power that still exists, China. You girls enjoy yourselves.**

_June 2232; Shanxi._

Grand Marshal of the Human Peoples Republics Armies Johnathon Grant glared at the person in front of the pile of burning books. His brown leather overcoat flapped in the breeze, his gold braided shoulder boards overlaid with five silver stars shined in the light produced by the fire.

A dense fog lay over the landscape; he ignored the briskness of the air, ignored the soldiers walking around the mag-train yard.

His eyes were only on the woman in front of him; a woman that he remembered despite the passage of time. Over ten years, and he still remembered her eyes; flaming amber eyes, curly brown hair, tanned skin.

She wore the officer's uniform of the Silver Legion; A light grey uniform, a grey peaked cap, a black button up shirt underneath with a grey tie, and black pants; a black armband around her left coat sleeve with a gold star and a sickle cradling it in the center of the band, indicating her to be a New Athenian native. He had his own black band around his left coat sleeve, only his was a silver tomahawk crossed with a hammer; a nod to his American heritage.

"You are certain Vesta?" he asked her, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course comrade Marshal; the capitalists and their alien supporters have been driven out of Shanxi. They have fled aboard several vessels, but we are tracking their warp signatures. Prowlers are already in route to intercept them comrade Marshal." She replied, rapidly saluting.

"Good" Grant replied, smiling lightly.

"Comrade Marshal" a voice behind him called Grants attention. The Grand Marshal turned, seeing two people he was also familiar with; one he was happy to see, the other he was not.

"Admiral Hackett, a pleasure to see you Comrade." He said with a smile, returning the young Argentinians salute; taking note of the gold wheat and sickle on his red armband of his black uniform.

The other didn't salute him, nor did he greet him. Clean shaven, hair cut in a crew cut, and a thick moustache; the green uniform jacket with navy blue pants, and the blue peaked cap told Grant exactly who the man was.

A career Political Officer from the Interior Ministry; Colonel August Colt, a man whose entire service Grant and his staff frequently butted heads with.

"Comrade Marshal, Comrade Officer; we have caught a man whom you will be very interested in seeing." The Colonel informed him. Grant narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but followed regardless; his four guards following him closely in their Marsh camo uniforms. Two Silver Legion officers in their grey uniforms accompanied them.

They came to the warehouse for the mag-trains, and outside was a group of civilians; all surrounded by a large group of Ministry Agents and Soldiers. The Soldiers and Agents were throwing glares at each other, but kept most of their attention on the people in front of them.

To Grants surprise, there were Quarians there as well. _Good, it seems our fellow communists are doing their jobs at last._

As they approached, Grants eyes widened as he recognized two people in particular.

"Jacob Featherston, Father Seed; you two escaped us at Reach. But it seems your luck has run out my friends." Grant sneered as he glared the two rebel leaders down.

Somewhat to his surprise, neither of the two men seemed all that afraid; and just calmly watched him with a firm resolve. "Did you honestly believe that you preaching your religious bullshit and radical ideas of freedom wouldn't get you in trouble? Did you honestly think you could evade us forever?" Grant spat furiously, somewhat aggravated by the lack of response.

Father Seed's response angered him further.

"Why do you do what you do my son?" He asked Grant.

Grant scowled while Vesta walked forward and punched the priest in the stomach; Seed coughed, but did nothing in response. Grant walked forward and knelt in front of the man, growling "You are in no place to judge my actions priest. Pacifist, Ha!"

Grant turned his attention to the rest of the prisoners; there was a mixture of human rebels; Turians, Asari, and Salarians. One Turian in particular caught his eye. "Desolas Arterius, how did you find yourself here I wonder?" Grant asked, smirking as a Ministry Agent and a Soldier grabbed the Turian general and dragged him over to Grant.

Unnoticed by Grant, Vesta, Colt, Hackett and the other humans standing around the prisoners; there was one Quarian towards the back, watching the whole scene play out.

His Pink visor and hood was drenched with blood, but he paid it no mind. Rael'Zorah watched his "Allies" interrogate the Turian general. Rael always regretted joining the humans, regretted not throwing their support behind the democratic/republican rebels. But the realities of politics were always messy, and the Quarians didn't really have a choice in the matter.

Over 40,000 ships in the Human Peoples Republics, they would have easily swept aside the Quarian fleets.

The Admirals had decided to play "the long game", wait until the humans were not paying attention, and strike down their dictatorship in one fell swoop. That was the plan, until the entire Citadel Council declared war on them. The Humans however were undaunted by the odds.

"-are very brave general, stupid, but brave. Regrettably, this is what bravery gets you when you go against the state." Marshal Grant was saying, bringing Raels attention back to the moment.

The Marshal had drawn a pistol and shot the Turian right in the stomach.

The famed Turian fell to the ground, clutching his wound as Turian blood poured out. The Marshal turned to the rest of the human Soldiers and Agents. "Sanitize the area." He ordered.

The Soldiers turned and unloaded their weapons into the crowd; the people screaming and straining against their bonds to get away as they were riddled with bullets. The Quarians looked in, many looking like they were trying not to throw up in their helmets. _"Kheelah, what have we gotten ourselves into?" _One Quarian whispered.

Rael gulped and slowly shook his head as he watched, his horror growing as he watched the Interior ministry agents walked up and started dumping the fossil fuel known as gasoline onto the group of people; some like General Arterius were still alive and moving.

When they had finished, and had made sure all the people were doused; one blue hatted agent lit a match in his hand. Marshal Grant stopped him. "Wait, Comrade Lieutenant." He called, gesturing for Rael to come over.

Rael gulped silently and walked over to the Grand Marshal, wincing under his mask as the man put a hand on his shoulder; "Son, I want you to take the shot." He said.

Rael recoiled slightly in surprise, "Sir?" he asked.

Grant smiled and put an arm around Rael shoulders and started walking, practically dragging the Quarian with him. "Comrade, I think that it is time for you to learn. Time for you to learn what sacrifice truly means. These people here in front of you; they forfeited their lives to oppose our alliance. They openly defied the state, practicing that arcane faith to their God!" He spat, "Advocating for free speech, defying the state; and for what? To spread disunity, and to undermine the fruits of their own labor; but they understood what they were getting into, you do not comrade.

You see, you must harden your heart and do what must be done.

You are a soldier young Rael, and soldiers follow orders; soldiers protect the state. And unfortunately, the state must sometimes order young me to do horrible things to protect itself and its labor. I am a forgiving man young Rael, but the state is not. You must pull this trigger to prove to the state that you can be a good soldier." Grant said, his tone growing morose as he spoke.

He took Raels pistol from his utility belt and held it grip out towards Rael.

The young Quarian could see that it was loaded with incendiary rounds. With a shaking hand, Rael took the pistol; Grant smiled and patted the Quarian on the back. "Good. Now shoot them soldier, one round only if you please; it would be a waste of ammo otherwise." He said smoothly.

The Marshal stepped back as Rael turned back and looked at the mass of people. The surviving Turians looked resigned to their fate, along with many surviving humans. One caught Raels attention, and he nearly dropped the pistol in shock. It was a girl, no older than sixteen or seventeen; she was holding her leg and shoulder, both gushing blood.

He could see the tears and the fear in her eyes.

With a shaking hand, Rael brought up the gunsight; aiming it at the girl. Rael blinked as he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. Rael knew he couldn't live with himself if he pulled the trigger. But he knew that someone with less morals and mercy would do it for him; all an act of defiance would accomplish would get him and his family killed, or have them sent to a reeducation camp.

He aimed the sights on the head of the teenager, and closed his eyes; _Ancestors forgive me._ He prayed.

Then he fired.

The teenagers head evaporated into pink mist, sparing her of the slow and painful death he would have condemned her too had he not finished her off. The Fuel ignited, and a wave of orange flames flew out like an explosion.

The screams would never be purged from Raels mind, no matter how quickly he shut off his audio receptors in his helmet. He tried to look away, but he found himself frozen in place; like he couldn't move.

He Ignored the Grand Marshals praises, ignored the Interior Ministry agents as they walked away to grab wood from the destroyed houses. He never stopped watching the practical vortex of fire as it spread across the mass of bodies.

* * *

"Let me ask you this fellas," A soldier slurred, the rank of Sergeant Major on his sleeve. An array of angry scars crisscrossed his face, his blond hair was close cropped but still incredibly greasy. The ash and dirt and grime coated his face. If it weren't for his uniform, one would have mistaken him for a coal miner.

Above his right chest pocket was a dirty name tag that read "Massani, Z."

He held a flask of bootleg Australian Moonshine, many of the men and women around him had their own. All looked similar to him, drunk, dirty, and many had scars on their faces.

"What do ya want 'ta know Sarge?" One of the men asked.

"What's as big as a house, burns 20 minutes of fuel every hour, puts out a shitload of smoke and practically ear rapes you, and cuts an apple into three pieces?" Massani asked, taking a drag from a cigar and gulping down some of his moonshine.

A wave of shrugs and grunts greeted him.

"A STATE MADE MACHINE THAT'S SUPPOSED TO CUT APPLES INTO FOUR PIECES!" He bellowed, drawing a round of hearty laughs and cheers; everyone taking shots of their shine.

The door to the "commandeered" bar opened, and a gaggle of Quarians staggered in.

None of the soldiers paid them any mind, except Massani. He immediately picked out a very familiar pink hood and visor; and he stood up and walked over to the Quarian.

Rael staggered over to a couch in the corner, and sat down; he hadn't stopped crying since he had pulled the trigger. He didn't even acknowledge Massani as the grizzled veteran sat down next to him.

"Your first time huh?" Massani asked.

Rael recoiled away from the old soldier, before realizing who he was. "H-how did you-"

"-Know? Simple, you smell like burnt meat; and you have the look." Zaeed replied.

Rael gave out a choked sob, "How… how can your people so callously kill those they deem troublesome. Ancestor's sake, I think the Batarians would be better; because they hold no illusions as to what they are." Rael cried.

Had he been with most any other human, he would have been reported; and docked for possible rebellious thoughts. But Zaeed was a veteran, and an old school soldier; one who had seen the horrors of the government many times.

"I knew many men and women like you Rael, braver than you or me. They think that they are too important for the government to lose, they think; 'I can say what I want. They need me too much to purge me.' They try and take a moral stand and say no. But when the moment of truth comes, and you feel the pressure; all the doubts you have come roaring to the front.

When they will go after your family, your friends, and they'll have your comrades in arms carry out the punishment; at the end of it all, all any of them desire is just to not get shot.

I was like you; idealistic, believing I was fighting for the betterment of the state. But at the end of the day, I realized that all I was doing was maintaining its power; and there was nothing I could do to change it.

All I could do was go from day to day, and hope that I could maintain my humanity in some form." Zaeed said, his expression morose.

Rael nodded, sniffling; "I heard they nuked Khar'shan and Omega." Rael choked out.

Zaeed gave him a hard look, "You are fortunate we are in a crowd; don't say that too loudly, bugs are everywhere." He looked around before leaning into Rael, "They also Nova bombed Palaven and Thessia. Billions are dead Rael, the Asari and the Turians will capitulate in a few days, the Salarians have been on the States side since the beginning; who do you think gave the Presidium the info on where to find the Asari and Turian homeworlds?

Any governments left of the citadel races will be puppeted and replaced with communist governments. Political and religious leaders will be purged, almost assuredly. It'll be a repeat of the conclusion of the American Civil war.

Like minded groups will be supported, but watched. Dissenters and threats will be purged.

It's how the galaxy works Rael." Zaeed said; standing and taking a swig of his moonshine. "Be thankful for what you have Rael, because the state will take it away in an instant if you let yourself stand out."

The old soldier leaned forward for one last message; "The only thing that matters is to survive."

* * *

Rael catapulted forward in his bunk, hitting his head on the bulkhead. He grunted and held his head, before rolling out of bed. He stood slowly, and walked over to his miniature bathroom; making sure to activate the clean room generator.

He took off his mask and suit once the bell chimed letting him know that the room was germ free.

He vomited into the toilet, sweating all over; and feeling like shit. He staggered over to the shower and turned on the water; thanking his XO privileges. He dropped to his knees, hugging himself; panting like crazy.

Rael only vaguely remembered what he was dreaming about; but what he did remembered terrified him. From that moment forward, he swore that he would never let himself be a puppet; that he would never let others make the choice for him.

Whether it be Humans, Turians, Asari, the Council, or even his own people. Rael would never let them control him, he would control himself.

After calming himself down, Rael stood and shut off the water; walking over to the mirror. His dark purple hair, grey skin, and clean shaven face looked sunken and haunted. Rael glared at his reflection, then nodded; _if I ever reassume the throne, I will be nothing more than a figurehead. I didn't like it before, but now? No man or woman should have as much power as my ancestors used to. _

_I won't be a puppet, but I refuse to control others' lives. Never… Never will I let that dream become reality._

**A/N: If we're honest with ourselves, what's the difference between Communism and Fascism? I'm not talking about the theories behind it, or the beliefs. I'm talking about in practice. Historically, and statistically; one could argue Communism is worse, but that's not my point. **

**Communist China, which still exists today I might add; has killed over 50 million people in Purges, Reforms, Famine, Slaughter of Ethnic Minorities in Tibet, and in forced labor camps. And let's not forget the Islamic minorities forced into the reeducation camps, you won't find mention of it because google has blocked it from search at china's "request" because they want to cozy up to them.**

**The Soviet Union killed over 20 million people in Political Purges, Famines, the Gulags, and the slaughter of Jews and Ethnic Minorities the Soviet leadership deemed "troublesome." Russia under Vladimir Putin still jails hundreds of people, although they are far less blatant about it. **

**How many people did Nazi Germany kill? Most estimate around 11 million killed in the holocaust. Keep in mind I'm not counting those killed as a result of collateral damage or military deaths; Political Purges, Labor camps, and (I'm sensing a pattern here) the slaughter of ethnic minorities and religious figures and peoples.**

**Communism and Fascism; two sides of the same coin.**

**I and a buddy of mine were recently talking about it, which is part of the reason I made this chapter. Now you guys know full well I'm an American libertarian/conservative, which has caught me a lot of flak many times in this story. My friend is a Canadian centrist with socialist leanings, so we overlap on some things when it comes to politics, but disagree on a lot of others. At one point, we were talking about Hitler and Stalin and he said something that struck me. **

"**We think of political beliefs as a graph, or as a straight line; Fascism and communism falling on opposite sides of the scale. But in reality, it's a circle; Fascism and Communism at the end of the day are both authoritarianist beliefs that have killed millions of people, and will do so again if they ever rise up again. The only real difference is that fascism is nationalistic, wanting its ideology only for its 'chosen people'; while communism is globalist, they want their ideology spread to everyone."**

**Keep in mind this is a centrist with socialist leanings saying this, not me.**

**Okay, this was something of a filler chapter; I don't plan on continuing the plot until I have a sufficient amount of free time on my hands. As it stands, expect any chapters to bet filler until Christmas break; then I'll get back to the plot.**

**Okay, I would really like a TV Tropes page, please make one guys.**

**PM if you have ideas for a collaboration or you wish to do Fan Art.**

**Leave a review as always.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	30. First Hyper-sonic Ace (Prequel Chapter)

**A/N: This was originally on a different story; and I've decided to move it to this story. Very important message in the authors note below.**

**To clear up confusion, this is a prequel chapter of sorts; covering Grants first mission during the New Athens war.**

* * *

_**The Following footage has been taken from the Military History Channel show "The Super Eight of New Athens," which is an action-documentary covering primarily Confederacy President Johnathon Grant and his squadron's actions fighting the Fascist Rebel Air Force during the initial years of the New Athens Rebellion.**_

_**All scenes are recreated with state of the art computer animation and testimonies from many pilots, civilians, cockpit recordings, gun camera footage, and support personnel.**_

* * *

March 15th, 2196; 5:30 PM

Fifty AA-18 Comet fighter-bombers rip through the frigid skies of New Athens. Their objective is simple, find rebel troop concentrations and destroy them. Twenty AF-39 Cherokee fighters of the 301st fighter group fly escort.

1st Lieutenant Johnathon Grant fly's lead on the last flight of four, designated "Firefox" flight.

_"It was a few months since the start of the war. Many of these pilots and soldiers believed that this would be a quick war that many wouldn't even finish training before the war was over and won. But they were going into a very unpopular war; this wasn't the Anarchist rebellions on earth. The Air Force desperately wanted an ace for propaganda and morale. There hadn't been an ace in any Air Force since the American Civil war, but these men and women believed they could do it." –Robert Leaply, Reach Military Historian._

Grant, like all the rest of his fellow pilots, has no combat experience; and only a few months of training behind his Cherokee. But he's aggressive, and champing at the bit to kill enemy planes. In just a few minutes, he will be getting an accelerated crash course in Hypersonic dogfighting.

_"I had only a few months of training in the fighter that I was going to fight with against the Fascists. But we all knew our jobs, and resolved ourselves to doing them." –Col. John Grant (Ret.)_

As the strike force crosses into enemy airspace, jamming pods and ECM packages from both sides are deployed rapidly, disabling the radars for any aircraft in the air.

Then, sixty gleaming Vak-15 Fennec's scramble into the air to take on the Confederates.

Grant and the other pilots punch their external gas tanks to streamline their fighters for combat, but something goes wrong.

_"I got a massive asymmetric rocking motion on my Cherokee; I banged my head against the canopy, I look over and I see my right wing tank hasn't dropped." –Col. Grant_

The pins securing the drop tanks to his plane have frozen; a common problem in the frigid New Athenian skies. Standing orders dictate he must return to base, but Grant is determined to hang in and protect the bombers.

_"I put both hands on the stick, steady the plane, and I told myself 'we need all the guns we can get to protect these guys.' So I just held position with my flight, and watched as all the other planes broke off to intercept the Vak-15s." –Col. Grant_

Grant and Firefox flight hold position to guard the bombers while the other sixteen Cherokees break off to deal with the threat to the strike force. Just as Firefox flight settles in for the long trip to the target, Grant spots two more Vak-15s closing fast on the bombers.

Grant quickly leaves the 2nd element to guard the bombers while he and his wingman Alison Cox arc down to cut off the attack. His hung wing tank turns his Cherokee into a bucking bronco.

The two pilots rapidly close on the enemy planes.

The rebel pilots continue straight ahead, focused on attacking the fighter bombers.

_"They didn't see either of us come on down. I took the left, Alison took the right; I locked him up with a heat seeker and sent the phoenix missile right up his tailpipe." –Col. Grant_

The Phoenix missile detonates inside the enemy fighter's engine; the plane is torn in half by the expanding ring of molten copper. It is Johnathon Grants first confirmed kill of the war. The Second Fennec climbs to escape.

_"I watched him and I thought 'what the heck's he doing going up there?' So I sent Alison up there to go deal with him since there was no way I would make the climb with my hung wing tank." –Col. Grant_

Grant slowly climbs to altitude to resume his escort mission, and moves to rejoin his element lead and wingman. Then a glint of sun on metal catches his attention, he turns and see's eight more Vak-15's diving to attack the bombers.

* * *

_"The Vasily-Yakov-15 Fennec Fighter was the mainline fighter of the Fascist Rebel New Athens Air Force in the early years of the war. It had a top speed of Mach 4.11, and had an excellent turning radius. But it lacked the range of most fighters, and only had a single 23mm cannon and two large Multi-purpose missiles._

_The AF-39 Cherokee Fighter was one of the newest planes in the Confederacy Air Force. Its dart like shape gave it incredible acceleration and speed, with a top speed of Mach 4.3. But it was heavy, and lacked the turning abilities of most fighters. It was armed with two 20mm cannons in the wings, four heat seeking Phoenix missiles, and two Radar guided Falcons." –Confederacy Wikipedia_

* * *

_"The difference between the Cherokee, and the Fennec, was the difference between a broadsword and a rapier. They could both be effective, but they had to be utilized somewhat differently." –Robert Leaply_

* * *

The eight Fennec's bore in at Mach 2, but they have target fixation and don't spot Grant. Grant swings in behind the eight enemy fighters, and climbs.

He goes to maximum thrust, lights his afterburner, and then fires a heat seeker at the lead. One Fennec falls, his elevators and stabilizer blown clean off. The leader's wingman climbs to right to try to figure out what's happening. Grant stays right with him, and arms his 20mm cannons.

He fires a burst, and ignites the fuel tanks; then the plane explodes. It is Grants third confirmed kill of the day.

Grant begins to climb to rejoin the fighter-bombers, his hung wing tank rocking his plane. He already has three kills and has protected the bombers twice; he could easily disengage and let his squadron mates finish the job. But he decides to stay and continue guarding the Comets.

_"My job was to protect the what, The Fighter-Bombers. Now I'm not a hero, but I have to live with my conscience; and if I didn't do what I was supposed to be doing then I was derelict my duty." –Col. Grant_

Then, Grant realizes that the remaining Fennecs have broken off their attack and are coming after him. The six rebel fighters swarm Grant, as the young pilot struggles to evade their attacks. He dives to try and gain speed, and turns tightly to the right to make the enemy planes overshoot. Four break off their attack and climb, retreating from the area; but two stay padlocked on his tail.

Then Grants Element leader, Morgan Kingfisher and her wingman, Albert Gist come to the rescue.

_"They came over the radio and told me, 'Lead straighten up, we're crashing your little party sir.' I looked up, and I saw them coming right at me. I realized that they were going to come screaming right over my head to get at the rebels on my tail. Then Morg gave a really loud war cry over the open network as she came over my head; and it was so loud I instinctively ducked my head; and I'm pretty sure she blew out the eardrums of every single pilot in the air." –Col. Grant_

Kingfisher and Gist come screaming overhead, cannons blazing. The two pilots nearly take off Grants tail but the move works; one Fennec is ripped to shreds by Kingfishers cannons, while the other dives away.

When Grant looks up, Kingfisher, Gist, and all the Fennecs are gone.

_"I said, 'alright that's enough, I'm going home; and I don't know why I'm still fighting these guys cause I'm gonna be a dead man soon if I don't leave.'" –Col. Grant_

Night is falling; Grant is beginning to run low on fuel and must egress to get to a tanker. He spots the Comets forming up; they have delivered punishing blows to the enemy and are heading for home.

But as Grant moves to link up with the Fighter-Bombers, he spots two more Fennecs diving straight at him.

* * *

_**-Various Commercial breaks…**_

_**-Running at 10x speed…**_

_**-Resuming normal speed…**_

* * *

March 15th, 2196; the skies over the New Athens, Sparta Mountains.

1st Lieutenant Johnathon Grant is in trouble.

Two agile rebel Vak-15 Fennec fighters are closing in on him from four o'clock high. Even though he's low on fuel, and despite his hung wing tank handicapping his fighter; Grant knows he must challenge the Rebel fighters and draw them away from the Comet's.

Grant pulls a long right climbing turn to get to the rebel planes. He lights his afterburner, and calls on one of the best tactics for his Cherokee; he attacks head on.

_"I'm the one that's climbing; and these guys are coming down in a very shallow dive, heading towards the bombers. Well when the saw me they steepened their dive; and when they steepened the dive, I cut loose._

_I hit the lead guy in the engine, and he caught fire. Then I caught him dead center with another burst, and then the whole thing blew. Boom!" –Col. Grant_

The enemy fighter disintegrates, temporarily blinding Grant in the flying debris.

_"His cockpit and nose separated from the debris… and went past my wing. Separated while spinning, very weird looking to say the least; I'd never had that happen before… or since._

_And of course, there's nothing but debris in front of me; which I flew threw. It hit my canopy, hit my wings, and got sucked into the intake._

_But it didn't knock me out, I was still flying straight and my engine was still running." –Col. Grant_

When Grant regains his senses, he sees the second Fennec diving on him from above, trying to lock on its missiles despite the mass jamming in the area.

_"I could see him, and he was looking at me as if 'That's a dead man I'm coming after cause I'm gonna blow him out of the sky!' And I knew that with my hung wing tank there was only one thing I could do. The next thing I knew we were both diving towards the coast._

_Even then he was still gaining, and I knew there was only one maneuver I could do._

_Flying straight, I couldn't do it because with my wing tank he would overtake me._

_Turning left or right, I couldn't do it cause he would have my broadside._

_Pulling up, my wing tank would slow me down, and eventually I would stall and he could get me that way._

_So the only option left to me, was to fool him." –Col. Grant_

Grant chops power, pops his speed breaks, and slams the rudder to the right; forcing his Cherokee into an aerial skid, trying to make the Fennec overshoot.

The rebel pilot tries to duplicate the skid as Grant straightens his own aircraft to avoid a stall.

_"As I straightened out he was coming down too fast, and he tried to copy my move; but he fishtailed, he couldn't do it. As he came past me I looked at him, and he looked at me; and if I saw him, I would recognize that man today. Now you say 'you're crazy man.'_

_Well…_

_When you kill somebody during war, and you see them; look at them right in the eyes, you'll understand exactly what I'm talking about." –Col. Grant_

With the Fennec in point blank range, a single burst from his twin 20mm's destroy the fighter. It is Grants fifth confirmed kill of the day, he's the 22nd century's first ace in one afternoon.

But his sense of triumph is fleeting; he rapidly climbs as his eyes race over his instruments. He checks the sky for any aircraft in the area.

_"I'm completely alone; everyone's gone and went home for the night. Well, I went and activated my radio to see if I could find anyone; before I said a single word a stream of 23mm bullets zipped right over my canopy. Well that kind of scared me." –Col. Grant_

Grant rolls his fighter to the right, and spots two more Fennecs on his tail. He rolls and reverses, pops his speed breaks, frantically trying to break the rebels firing solution on him.

_"Well now Grant has gone and committed several cardinal fighter pilot sins. Don't engage if you can't drop your tank. Don't engage if you don't have a wingman. Don't let yourself get distracted in enemy territory; and he's done all of these things._

_Grant is now meat on the table, and unless something happens soon; Grants fifth kill will be his last kill." –Jacob Kennedy, (UCN. Test Pilot)_

Fortunately for Grant, something does happen.

* * *

Two miles to the east Grants friend and squadron mate Robert Bishop, and his flight of four, call sign "Warwolf Flight," are beginning their egress into friendly territory.

_"We were starting our egress, the jamming beacons were starting to deactivate which meant the SAM missile batteries would coming online soon; when I heard my wingman, Jimmy Chase, pop in and say, 'I got activity 3 o'clock low.'_

_I look over and I see a Cherokee with a hung wing tank jinxing back and forth, and two Fennecs following close behind. And all I see are tracers streaming all around the plane. And I said, 'We got two planes bouncing a friendly, tally ho boys and girl.'" –UCAF Col. (Ret.) Robert Bishop_

Warwolf flight rolls to the right, and drop in behind the two rebel pilots.

_"I got on the radio and said, 'Cherokee pilot with the hung wing tank, put that sucker in a 5g right turn and keep it there." –Col Bishop_

_"I heard Robby say that and I thought, 'well the chances of me getting home just got a little bit better.'" –Col. Grant_

Grant yanks hard on the stick, his Cherokee leaps to the right.

_"I got a lock on the leader with my last Falcon, while Jimmy got the wingman; I waited, got good tone, then punched the button." –Col. Bishop_

The two pilots ripple fire their last missiles. Chase's missile malfunctions, exploding short of the rebel wingman; but Bishops guides true to the target.

_"The missile went up the tailpipe, there was a one-potato, two-potato, *CLAP* explosion. He went tumbling down in a mass of flames, and I thought to myself 'well there goes number five.'" –Col. Bishop._

The remaining Fennec dives away, bugging out of the fight and scrambles back to base. The five fighters let him go, the fight is over.

Warwolf flight forms up around Grant, and escorts him home.

_"I heard Robby get on the radio and he said, 'Thanks Grant, that was number five for me. How many did ya get before they jumped you?' and I waited a second before saying, 'I got five sweetheart, I made ace before you did.' There was a really long pause, and then Robby called me something that isn't exactly appropriate for public audiences. (Breaks out laughing.)" –Col. Grant_

* * *

Grant is the last to land back at base; and as he taxis in he finds a crowd waiting for him.

_"There were easily close to several hundred people waiting there; base staff, fighter pilots from both the mission and on the ground, a lot of press people, my squadron mates, and the bomber pilots, and a whole mess of other people. I open my canopy and I see Robby already being paraded around, then my flight all rushed up to the cockpit and practically dragged me out of the thing._

_Alison hugged me with tears in her eyes, said she thought I had gotten shot down after she left, she bagged two that day. _

_Albert clapped me on the back, shook my hand and was smiling so widely I thought he would split his face in half, he bagged two as well._

_Morgan kissed me all over my face while hugging me, she bagged four and would have gotten a fifth had she not run out of ammo. The three of them hoisted me up, and brought me over to Robby._

_Jimmy, Reyna, and Gary all were carrying Robby as well. Robby got five after me, Jimmy got three, Reyna got one, and Gary got one. Our two flights had bagged 23 aircraft combined; the whole squadron, not counting us had only bagged 14. Robby and I got our pictures taken, and then we had both our flights come in and take a whole bunch of pictures and they filmed us and asked us questions. The eight of us from that day forward were inseparable, from then to the present." –Col. Grant_

Grant and Bishop are awarded the Medal of Honor for their actions. The rest of Firefox and Warwolf flight are awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. The Eight of them would continue to fly together in some of the most hair-raising missions and dogfights in history.

They would become known, as "The Super Eight of New Athens."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so the question I'm about to ask is going to sound very... odd; but i assure you its for a good reason. All you guys and gals who read this story; who here is Native American? i'm asking because i want to consult you guys for... "reasons." I cant say why exactly because that would spoil what i have planned for future chapters. If you are, please PM me; and i'll tell you exactly why i need to know.**

**This chapter was from my New Athens Prequel Anthology, then i realized that practically no one read it so i decided to move the chapter over to the main story.**

**Now before you go ripping on me about copying history, I'm not. This was inspired by real life events in the past and present, but not word for word. This one is inspired by real life "Ace in a day" Jefferson J. DeBlanc, whose story didn't end quite as nicely as Grants did.**

**I will admit, i haven't been very inspired as of late; and i'll tell you why.**

**Calculus II, and Calc. Based Physics; See i'm in a mechanical engineering program.**

**I go to a local collage, get the lower math and credits done, then i transfer to University and finish my last two years of my degree. Here's the problem, its insidious about who it takes. I didn't know this, but all the classes in the program you can take as many times as you want so long as you get a C.**

**Except Calc. II and Physics.**

**You HAVE to get at least a B- in both those classes, and only get one retry between the two. So if i get a B in Physics but a C in Calc II, i can still retake Calc II one more time. But if i get a C in both, i'm screwed. Now that isn't my issue; its annoying, but its a special program and they have to be selective with who they take. That's fine, i totally understand the reasoning behind it.**

**What's insidious about, is they don't tell you about that requirement.**

**If you have to redo both classes, they still pretend to take you in; but what they do is stick you in General Ed courses to milk you of your money, and then constantly deflect your questions and demands by saying "Oh there wasn't any room in the course this semester." And they keep you there indefinitely until either they take pity on you and let you in after a few years, or until you quit.**

**Had the first round of exams this Wednesday; and i got depressed.**

**when the smartest people in my class are stumped as to how to solve problems on the FIRST FUCKING EXAM; what hope do i have?**

**Hope y'all enjoyed, Leave a comment; but please be nice, the latest review essentially amounted to "Your fucking story is trash, your a horrible writer; delete your story and leave the site." These comments don't really bother me much, but they don't really help me either.**

**I suppose I should say that I would really like a TV Trope page**

**PM if you're interested in fan art the story.**

**PM if you are interested in my offer of consultation.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	31. Collateral Damage

**Quick A/N: I guess I didn't make it as clear as I wanted to, but the AU chapter was Rael having a nightmare; for lack of a better term. He was getting a glimpse of a different reality. This chapter is a big one so hold on to your hats.**

_December 3__rd__, 2234_

_Dear Hanne, _

_sorry if I haven't written to you in while big sister; but I only recently completed basic training and got my deployment orders. We're being shipped out to Palaven, I made Senior Private; and I made a few friends. I can't tell you what unit I'm in, but I can tell you a few things._

_I guess I'll tell you about my squadmates._

_There's my friend Jaan'Weelan; I hated him the first week of basic training, but we're like brother and sister now. He and I have a lot in common as it turns out. He's the same age as me, same lifeday, even the same liveship; thank you for the boot knife by the way, perfect gift for a 19 year old. (Can you detect my sarcasm?) He's got a bondmate waiting for him back home; he keeps a picture of her in his armor._

_There's Stiles'Nimas; he's our team photographer, he says he wants to make the cover of Galaxy magazine; heh, as if that will happen._

_There's Corporal Howard'Jorgensen; if that sounds human to you, that's because it is. He's our Confederate Liaison, he speaks _Kheelish _fluently; and is a skilled demolition expert._

_Now Aiello'Raamos is the veteran; he was a Migrant Fleet Marine for a few years before joining up in the Expeditionary Corps. Ha, he's got enough fight in him for ten Quarians; and enough bigotry for two Turians. He's been the most… vocal about allying with the AI's and Humans, but it mostly boils down to belly aching at this point._

_Then there's Staff Sergeant Zumi'Gudal, she's a real sweetheart; she drives us into the ground, and is a real hardass to say the least. The less I talk about her the better, because I'll go into a rant._

_And always looking over Gudal's shoulder is Senior Lieutenant Heer'Jaarah; he's like Gudal and Aiello, a Fleet Marine turned trooper. He watches over us like we're his children; makes sure to keep Gudal on a tight leash like she's an untamed Varren, but if she breaks loose we'll all get bit._

_I hope to see you soon, your little sister._

* * *

**Palaven Capitol Outskirts; 0730 hours.**

Yaase'Shas vas Henna of the Quarian Expeditionary Corps (QEC) stepped off the transport with the rest of her platoon. Yaase was just a private, no combat experience, fresh out of boot camp; so imagine her surprise to learn that she and the rest of her platoon had been assigned to the front lines.

It was raining, and the humans were rushing about in their storm coats, looking a lot like herself wearing her _tracker sehni;_ all the Quarians in his platoon wore the _tracker_ variant of the Quarian _sehni._ Unlike the normal variant, the _tracker _version looked like a sort of cloak that reached down to the back of his knees; it provided excellent protection, and very useful for giving warmth and comfort when you were sleeping.

The QEC had really doubled down on standardizing everything; black, grey, and white urban camo suits, ceremonial cloth, and _tracker sehni's_ for everyone.

The only way to identify a Quarian now, was through a name plate one their "uniformed suits" and through their voice.

"Hey Yaase, what are we supposed to do here?" She heard her best friend, Jaan'Weelan, ask from the side.

Yaase shrugged, mimicking the human gesture; "Your guess is as good as mine, Lieutenant Jaarah told us to wait here; so that's what I'm going to do."

Jaan grunted, rubbing his black visor to get some of the water off of it.

"ATTENTION!" Staff Sergeant Gudal screamed.

Everyone scrambled into a formation, the days of boot camp drills still deep in their instincts. A human was walking up to them, a Rifle slung over his shoulder; his dark green digital camo uniform, long coat, and armor identifying him as a Russian Shock Trooper; a single silver star on his lapels labeling him as a major.

He walked up to the platoon, and stared them all down; a harsh glare on his face.

"Well, what are you all standing around for? Get your fucking gear and follow me." The man ordered. Everyone rushed and grabbed their weapons and their travel packs; making sure to slip them under their _tracker _hoods to protect them from the rain.

Yaase and Jaan grabbed their gear and jogged up to the Russian Major, who was already walking to their destination. He gave them a sideways look as the rest of the platoon caught up with him, and he began pointing out various groups as they walked. "I'm Major Sergei Molotov, I'm in charge of the Russian Shock Troopers, and the ranking officer of the field coalition forces in this area.

Those are gravediggers; they pile you according to species." He pointed to a group of humans in Confederate uniforms piling dead bodies and scavenging gear.

Then he pointed to more confederates wearing white aprons over their tan camo uniforms. "The Chefs, they cook both dextro and levo food; still tastes like shit regardless. That's hustler, he gives out the beans and bullets; make sure you keep your hands on your wallets when you're near him."

He pointed to a very heavyset human, to the point he had discarded his armor; who looked up and waved at them prompting a few privates to wave back nervously.

Yaase saw a group of humans digging through some rubble; she didn't recognize their uniforms, so she asked "Who are those people?"

The major looked over, before shrugging and replied; "I don't know those guys, fuck them."

After a few minutes of walking, he pointed to a man in a green jumpsuit standing in a cluster of Human tanks and Armored Fighting Vehicles. "That's Major Robert Perez; he's in charge of the American armor."

He pointed to a group of men clustered around a table eating food; "Captain Sato Hideo, Japanese Army Troopers.

He stopped walking, and the whole group stopped walking with him; "And this is your direct CO, Captain Hannah Shepherd." He said, a woman in an olive trench coat walking up to him and putting her hands on her hips.

She looked them all over, and asked; "These my replacements Sergei?" She asked.

The Lieutenant stepped forward and saluted; "Senior Lieutenant Jaarah, first platoon reporting for duty ma'am."

Shepherd slapped the Lieutenants hand down, much to the groups surprise; and she said, "Don't ever salute in a combat zone; you wanna paint a target on my back?"

Somewhat abashed, Jaarah lowered his arm, quickly apologizing.

Shepherd eyed up their equipment, before gesturing for them to follow her; "Alright, c'mon. I'll show you where you'll be staying. Get familiar with my company and all that; we're hitting the State Theatre at 1130 hours tomorrow, so make sure your gears in order when we get there." She instructed, before turning and walking away.

Yaase and Jaan looked at each other, "They seem to be a little on edge." Jaan pointed out.

Yaase shook her head, "They've been here for months with no leave; I think that's to be expected. Still, their nowhere near as bad as Gudal on her off days." She replied.

Both of the Quarians shuddered; those days were never pleasant to say the least.

"Hey, at least we'll be getting some real action; can't be as bad as Aiello and Howard make it out to be."

* * *

**The Capitol; 1300 hours.**

"LET'S GO LET'S GO!" Jaarah screamed.

Yaase ran behind him, panting as she did so; the rain made the ground slippery, her urban camo _tracker_ hood was coated in mud and ash. She ducked instinctively as a Turian sprayed his assault rifle at the group as they ran; but Aiello blasted him with his own human made Beowulf Rifle.

The veteran grabbed Yaase's arm and yanked her back as another Turian sprayed where she had been just a second before. A Russian Shock Trooper was mowed down in seconds, his shields popping in seconds from the amount of gunfire.

After a few seconds, Aiello pushed her forward; "GO! HE'S COOLING THE GUN!" He screamed.

Yaase stumbled but kept running, raising her own Beowulf; quickly sighting the Turian as he rose up from cover. She pulled the trigger, the recoil from the rifle giving a familiar kick into her shoulder.

The Turians head snapped back as his bonelike face shattered, his brains splattering the ground behind him. Captain Shepherd ran up beside Lieutenant Jaarah, holding a SAW and spraying the windows to give them cover.

"GO! FALL BACK!" she screamed.

Yaase Scrambled after Howard, who was dragging Stiles; Stiles having been grazed in the leg. Howard practically threw Stiles behind a pile of sandbags, before jumping behind it himself; setting up his own SAW, spraying any Turian that stuck their heads out.

Yaase tripped and fell on her faceplate as everyone else vaulted over their cover.

"YAASE! I GOT YOU!" She heard Jaan scream.

She felt two pairs of hands grab her arms, and pulled her over into cover; "Keep your head down kid!" Jaarah bellowed, having been the other person to drag her over.

"Dammit! We keep crushing them and they keep coming back!" Stiles snapped, making sure his leg wound was sealed up tight, his suit already having injected proper medical drugs into his system.

"We can't hold this position for much longer." Yaase managed to gasp out.

"Captain Hideo's troopers are on the way, he's saying maybe 10 mikes tops." Shepherd informed them.

"Might as well be 10 hours; Captain we need tank support!" Howard bellowed.

"Tanks are coving our flank." Gudal snapped.

Major Molotov, trench coat flapping in the rain and wind; a trail of Eezo slugs trailing him like a cape, rushed to their spot. He did what humans called a "baseball slide" to slip into their midst, he brought his gun up, checking to make sure they were clear; ignoring the fact his ass was now covered in mud.

"Status!" He asked, looking at Shepherd.

"We're getting overrun, we need Perez's tanks; Hideo's troopers won't make it in time." She replied as she peeking her head up for a moment before a slug smacked into her helmet with a loud _CLANG!_

She cursed and shook her head, "Where's the radio?"

"By the steps of the theatre! My Radio guy bought it!" Molotov replied.

Shepherd cursed again, before peeking over more carefully; "Okay, Gudal! Take Howard and Yaase and call Perez to us. Got it!?"

"Got it!" Gudal said.

"COVERING FIRE!" Shepherd screamed.

Everyone stood up and started laying down a stream of gunfire. Yaase cursed as she scrambled up and followed her sergeant and squad mate; the wave of gunfire making it seem like she was wading through water.

"OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT!" She screamed as she tried not to stumble over her own two feet.

She saw one Turian rush a Shock Trooper as he was reloading, and the two fell to the ground wrestling each other. Before Yaase could decide on whether or not to help the human, the trooper pulled out a grenade and pulled the pin.

Yaase kept running and didn't dare look back as she heard the explosion.

She stumbled as she reached the stairs, and felt someone with five fingers; probably Howard, grab her by the throat and practically threw her behind cover. Gudal dove behind one of the support pillars seconds later; grabbing the field communicator from the dead Russian; who was missing both his arms and legs.

"Perez! It's Gudal! We're getting overwhelmed at the state theatre, we need you to send some tanks our way, and fast!"

**Two Kilometers Away**

"Copy that Sergeant, but we'll be leaving our flank vulnerable." Perez replied.

"_Molotov's Orders! Make it happen!" _Gudal screamed in reply.

"Understood, out." He looked down to the loader station of the tank. "Get anti-personal rounds ready Rabbson." He ordered before picking up the mic. "Ramirez, Patterson; form up with me, our boys and girls at the Theatre need reinforcements. Everyone else hold position, don't let anything through."

"Understood sir." Ramirez said.

"Copy that Perez." Patterson replied.

"Driver, take the next right; start moving towards the square, use the waypoint set." Perez ordered.

The big M10A4 Guderian Main Battle Tank was the mainstay of the Confederate Army, originally designed by German and American engineers; and used extensively by both nation-states as well. It was why Perez had been tapped for the Expeditionary Force, he had trained extensively in Guderian's; and he lead from the front, not wise for a commander but he didn't care.

A commander's place was with his men.

"Target, 59 meters, 14 degrees left; load HE round."

"HE Loaded!"

"Fire!"

_BOOM!_

The 130mm smoothbore Dahlgren Cannon fired the High Explosive cannon shell; the round ripped through the air and detonated as it hit the ground. The primer fired, and within micro-seconds; detonating the plastic explosives in the shell. The rapidly expanding fire ripped the shell to pieces, flinging molten steel in a sphere of destruction into the air.

Of the eight Turians clustered together, three were practically vaporized; the rest were ripped to shreds from the molten metal, which tore through their armor and skin like tissue paper.

"Target eliminated, half-ahead driver."

The Guderian lurched forward, lumbering along the debris cluttered streets of the capitol; many civilians poked their heads out to watch as the three giant tanks rushed through their home.

"Perez, Patterson; got a bunch of civilians watching us, what do we do about them." Ramirez reported.

Perez looked through the 360 degree viewport, watching the civilians as they drove past; "Leave 'em, just keep an eye out for soldiers and tanks." Perez ordered.

Almost instantly, a Turian light tank blasted through the ruins of a building; swiveling its main gun around and firing point black at the lead tank. Ramirez's shields faltered; then a pair of Turian infantrymen, seemingly out of nowhere, rolled a field artillery gun from a back alley. There was no evading the shot from point blank range.

The Turians fired, and the gun spat the bright orange slug at light speed; the front half of the Guderian practically melted in the face of the onslaught.

"SHIT!" Perez screamed; He was in the middle, the next target. He could already see the enemy tank swiveling its turret. "TARGET 100 METERS, 30 DEGREES RIGHT! FIRE FIRE SABOT!" He screamed.

The Depleted Uranium Dart roared out of the main gun; hurtled through the air at 1,770 meters per second. The armor piecing round slammed into the Turian light tank at practically point black range. What human weapons lacked in speed, more than made up for in mass. 19.6 kg of armor piercing explosives tore through the Turian armor like a can opener. The crew inside was killed instantly. Patterson meanwhile, had switched to COAX and sprayed the Turian field gun with 12.5mm machine gun fire; ripping the soldiers manning it to shreds.

All of this happened in the span of five seconds.

"Ramirez… Ramirez come in!" Perez called into the radio.

Silence…

"Dammit… C'mon Patterson, we need to get to the Theatre; nothing we can do for him now." Perez said, knowing full well the molten slag of the front half of his tank would have flash boiled any of Ramirez's surviving crew by now.

"Copy that sir… shitty way to go." Patterson replied.

Perez's tank lurched forward again, the treads crackling as they moved over bits of debris.

At half a kilometer, the sounds of gunfire was audible; even inside his tank, even over the roar of the engines. They soon came up to a wall, and rather than try and find a way around it; the Major, being an American, opted for a simpler and flashier solution.

_BOOM!_

The High Explosive shell blasted the wall apart, revealing a scene of pure chaos. Shepherd and Molotov's troops had taken cover inside the Theatre; while Jaraah's Quarians had taken position in the adjacent building, where the actors would wait and rehearse their roles.

The Turians were trying to take both buildings back with everything they had; pounding it with half a dozen field guns, and three tanks to Perez's horror.

"Patterson! Target the tanks, worry about the field guns and infantry later. SHEPHERD! Start hitting the infantry, keep them cowed!" Perez roared into the mic, ignoring the rapid fire replies.

"Target, 21 degrees left, 74 meters; Fire SABOT!"

_BOOM!_

The first tank was caught completely off guard; the Turian commanders having redirected their shields so they pointed towards the Human and Quarian positions. The depleted Uranium round torn through the unshielded back of the Tank; the eezo based engine core taking a direct hit. The engine exploded, a miniature mushroom cloud blasting upward; pieces of the tank raining down on the exposed Turian infantrymen.

The Second tank fared little better, Patterson's SABOT round caught the tank in between its turret and its base. The turret was ripped off, and went flying through the air; crashing into one of the field guns.

The Third tank however, got off a shot.

The blazing orange slug sliced right through Patterson's gun barrel; melting it off. Patterson immediately backed up while switching to COAX, spraying down the Turians manning the field guns; while Perez aimed his Turret at the last tank.

"Target, 37 degrees right, 94 meters; Fire SABOT!"

_BOOM!_

To Perez's horror, the heavy tank fired off another slug; faster than it should have. The Turian commander, accepting that he would probably die anyway, had fired his already overheated gun in a final act of defiance.

The Turians heavy gun, already red hot and glowing; fired off its last shot.

That was all that saved Perez from becoming molten slag. The gun, already pushed to its breaking point; fired just one degree higher than it should have, its calibrations fried. The SABOT round slammed into the side of the tank, peeling the armor like a banana peel.

The eezo slug zipped through the air, missing the top of Perez's turret by centimeters.

The armor groaned and warped; steaming from the heat of the near missed slug, the temperature inside the tank jumped from 21.1C to 29.4C. Perez instinctively ducked, despite the slug having long since passed. After a few seconds, he shook his head; and picked up the mic; "Patterson report."

"Lost my main cannon, but I still have my COAX. All infantry and field guns eliminated sir."

Perez wiped his brow, "Good job. Shepherd, we've cleared the square; we'll hold position here until Sato's boys arrive."

"Copy that, thanks Major; you need anything just ask." Shepherd replied, sounding relieved.

Perez looked up at the steaming roof of his turret, then at his sweat rag. "Well… now that you mention it; do you have a bucket of water?"

* * *

**1/4 Kilometer from Objective; 1307 hours**

After getting Perez all sorted out, Molotov had them start moving again.

Yaase jogged closely behind Captain Shepherd, Jaan close beside her. "Why can't Major Perez come with us?" She grumbled.

"He and Patterson are going to hold position until Sato arrives; both their tanks are damaged and need to go back to the repair yards afterwards. We're on our own." Shepherd replied, keeping her eyes outward and focusing on the buildings.

Yaase had nothing to say to that in response, and turned her attention back outward.

They quickly reached the Hotel, where the survivors of the failed assault had holed themselves up. It was quiet, too quiet. Shepherd and Molotov thought so as well; "Gudal, grab the LAW; aim it at the entrance." Molotov ordered.

The gruff sergeant grabbed the tube; and aimed it at the entrance, "Clear back blast!" she ordered.

"Clear!" Jaraah replied.

_BOOM!_

_Shooooom!_

_KABOOM!_

The doors of the hotel were blasted apart, several Turian soldiers stumbling out; screaming in pain from the shrapnel having buried itself into their bodies. Jaraah and Gudal quickly put them out of their misery; while Molotov quickly gave the order to advance.

Yaase dashed as fast as her legs could carry her, keeping her gun pointed at the windows.

Within seconds she reached the wall of the hotel; panting from the effort. Jaan rushed up beside her, practically slamming into the wall. Shepherd and two squads of Marines came up to the other side. She gave some hand signals, and the Marines began tossing flashbangs into the room; waiting until all of them went off, before the two squads rushed inside.

Yaase felt someone rapidly tap her shoulder, and she immediately understood.

She rushed inside, gun up; Jaan and the rest of the squad behind her. She had been expecting a long drawn out battle like all the rest of the building clearing ops they had done for the entire day. When she entered, there were over thirty dead Turians in the room, most close to the doorway.

Furniture was all over the place, but a healthy portion had been piled in front of the door.

"They were in the middle of trying to barricade the entrances; that's why there was such low resistance when we entered, we killed most of them with the LAW." Shepherd mused.

"Hm… Captain, permission to search the basement?" Jaraah asked.

"Granted." She replied, before turning to direct her marines into defensive positions while Major Molotov conducted his troops outside.

"Jaan, Howard you take point; Aiello, Yaase, Stiles take the rear." Jaraah ordered.

The six Quarians and the lone human in the squad walked up to the basement entrance, stacking up on either side. Gudal kicked the door down and rapidly backed up; anticipating a wave of gunfire.

Nothing…

Jaan and Howard cautiously began moving down the stairs; tensing with every step, expecting some sort of trap.

Still nothing…

They reached the bottom of the stairs, quietly opening the door; it was pitch black except for a few candles near the front, right by the entrance; the perfect trap to illuminate any intruders while keeping any defenders hidden.

"_Momma, who is it?"_ a voice whispered.

"_Shhh."_

Everyone tensed; the voice, a girl, sounded almost disembodied. "Sounds like a kid…" the Lieutenant rasped, then he turned to Yaase, "Private, you still have that dextro-candy bar?" He asked.

"Yes sir." Yaase replied eagerly. Normally she would have been sour at the prospect of giving up any sweets; but she liked kids, didn't matter what species.

Jaraah jerked his head, and Yaase shuffled forward and knelt; taking out the bar and unwrapped it. Normally she would take it out of the wrapper and put it into a masher to make it edible for her.

"I know you guys are hungry; c'mon out." She whispered.

A few seconds passed, then a little Turian boy popped out from the shadows and half crawled half toddled up to Yaase; _"GARRUS WAIT!" _An older Turian, a girl; rushed out behind him, terror written on her features.

"_SOLANA!" _A much older voice, also female, shrieked. Charging forward behind them, holding a rifle; everyone tensed and backed one fired as she rushed forward, shoving Garrus and Solana behind her; little Garrus already nibbling on the candy bar.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Gudal shouted

"Hold up! Hold up… it's okay, we aren't going to hurt you." Jahraah said, having slung his rifle and held up his hands; he waved at the rest of the squad, gesturing for them to lower their weapons. Reluctantly, they did so; the Turian mother doing the same.

"Captain Shepherd, Major Molotov; get down here right now, we have a serious problem." Gudal said into her mic.

Jaan for his part, slowly walked forward; keeping his hands raised. He knelt in front of Garrus and Solana, and held out his hand. Solana, being the older sibling, pushed Garrus behind her while their mother growled a warning. Jaan ignored her and asked, "Hey, my names Jaan; what's yours?"

The boy stared blankly at him; not understanding a word he was saying.

Jaan grimaced and hit the side of his helmet; "Translators broken, we can't understand them and they can't understand us." He informed them as Shepherd and Molotov burst into the room, weapons drawn.

They quickly relaxed on seeing the civies, and slung their weapons.

"Sir, Ma'am; we can't leave these civies here." Jaraah said.

Jaan, unnoticed by everyone; tilted his head, having heard a sound from nearby. He quietly stood and walked over to where he had heard the sound.

"This is your problem Lieutenant, you deal with it. Shouldn't be too big a job huh?" Molotov grunted.

"There was a delivery truck topside, we can use that and get them to our lines." Jaraah suggested.

"Not a bad plan." Shepherd agreed.

"Sirs, Ma'am with respect our objective is to guard this hotel not protect civilians." Gudal protested.

"There's only three of 'em." Jaraah replied.

There was a loud clanging noise, drawing everyone's attention. "Sir's, Ma'am; you better come see this." Jaan called out, sounding very aggrieved.

Stiles looked to his left and noticed a light switch; he turned the knob and the lights came on, revealing at least two dozen civilians. Most were Turians, teenagers and elderly folk; but there were a few Asari and Salarians in the mix to their surprise.

All of them looked sick, hungry, and scared.

Gudal took one look and cursed; promptly sitting down on a nearby crate, "Ah… perfect." She spat angrily.

"Shit…" Shepherd agreed.

"Now what?" Stiles asked.

No one answered for a moment, then the Turian mother stepped forward; _"Please… please help us; we've been trapped here for days."_ She whispered, none of it translating due to their malfunctioning translators.

"I don't speak Turian." Gudal snapped.

Then Jaan, to everyone's shock; started speaking in somewhat halting Turian. _"It's okay… we will get transport… don't worry."_ He said.

The Turians all visibly sagged in relief; while Gudal shot up like a rocket, her face may have been obscured by her standard issue black visor, but you could see she was baffled and angered at the same time.

Shepherd, Molotov, and Jaraah looked at the young private with renewed interest.

"You speak Turian?" Gudal asked fury dripping into her voice.

"Yes…" Jaan replied, looking somewhat ashamed.

"When the hell were you going to tell us that _bosh'tet_?" she snapped.

"… I wasn't." Jaan said, a little bit of steel entering his voice.

Jaraah stepped up, shooting a glare at Gudal; "Doesn't matter now; that truck is still topside right?" After getting some confirmation, he turned to Aiello; "Aiello, take Yaase and bring the truck around, we'll bring everyone topside."

Aiello nodded while gesturing for Yaase to follow him. The two took off running up the stairs, Yaase panting slightly; her endurance having been pushed to its breaking point from all the constant combat for the day. "Can't believe that Jaan never told us he spoke Metal head." Aiello grumbled.

"His dad's best friend was a Turian Cabal; he told me all about his 'Uncle Octavius'. He just didn't tell the rest of you guys about him." Yaase replied.

"Guess we all got something we aren't proud of." Aiello said, the two of them jogging out of the hotel over to the truck.

* * *

Aiello climbed out of the passenger seat as Yaase pulled the truck around, backing it up so the loading area was flush with the door. She threw it in park and jumped out, seeing Gudal and Jaraah running up.

"LETS GO! LOAD UP!" Gudal screamed.

"What are you doing sir?" Yaase asked.

"We're covering their retreat from the area." The Lieutenant replied, scanning for Turian soldiers.

"Over my protests, we need to protect the hotel." Gudal grumbled.

Yaase never thought that she would say this in her life as a soldier, but she felt compelled to say; "Sir, with respect she's right, we cover their retreat then that just paints a target on their back." She said.

"Noted Private." Jaraah replied, as the rest of the squad and the civilians rushed through the lobby, avoiding the Marines and Shock Troopers setting up defensive positions.

"JARAAH! I ordered you to protect the hotel! Not the civilians!" Molotov screamed, storming up to them; Shepherd close behind, looking none too pleased as well.

"With respect sir, this is my task; and I'm having my squad protect these people as they fall back." He replied unflinching.

Unnoticed by them, Solana and her Mother were both looking around; both looking slightly panicked. _"Oh no… GARRUS!"_ Solana shrieked, catching everyone's attention. She tried to run back inside the hotel, before Jaraah caught her; while Jaan grabbed ahold of Mrs. Vakarian.

"What's wrong?" Shepherd asked, looking concerned.

"The boy's gone. The fuck, I thought he was right behind me." Howard shouted.

"Fuck! Alright, we can't go back in; the Turians have probably taken control of the rest of the hotel, we barely have the lobby." Gudal swore.

"Sir I can go and find the boy." Yaase said, not entirely sure why she spoke up; but there was no taking it back now.

The officers looked at each other, then Jaraah looked her in the eyes and raised a finger; "You have seven minutes. Only you go; and if you can't find the kid get out of there." He ordered.

"Yes sir." Yaase replied, and before she let herself think too much about it, she unslung her human made rifle and dashed into the hotel; her _Tacker _cloak trailing behind her like a cape.

* * *

Yaase cursed her big mouth as she reached the door to the basement; the hotel was empty of coalition forces now and surprisingly empty of Turians as well. That would change soon if she didn't hurry up.

She made sure her Beowulf was fully loaded and opened the door. Finding herself face to face with a Turian soldier; who had been waiting for his rifle to cool down.

"_SHIT!" _both soldiers screamed, the Turian bashing Yaase's Beowulf away; Yaase retaliating by grabbing hold of the Turians rifle while bashing him in the face with her visor instinctively.

Her visor cracked, but it was enough to stun the Turian; allowing Yaase to throw the rifle as far away as possible. The Turian growled and tackled Yaase to the floor, punching her in the face. Yaase watched in horror as her visor cracked further; before she pulled her pistol, firing wildly.

She hit the Turian in the shoulder, the shields doing nothing at point blank range. The Turian staggered, but reacted quickly; he grabbed Yaase's arm and smashed it on the ground, forcing her to drop the pistol.

The Turian drew his knife and slashed Yaase from her right shoulder to just above her left breast. Then he rapidly stabbed her in each shoulder before leaving the knife buried in the right shoulder, twisting it as he did so.

She screamed, but head-butted the Turian; cracking her visor further, practically forming a spider web of cracks all across the right side of her face as stars danced across her vision. She ignored it, seizing the Turians lapse in concentration; and drew her own knife. She stabbed the Turian in the side, lodging it in the kink in the Turians armor.

The Turian let go of the knife buried in Yaase's shoulder and howled in pain; and then grabbed the tear in her suit to try and keep a grip on her.

Yaase kicked the Turian away tearing her suit; as a squad of fully armed Turians breached into the lobby. Yaase's eyes bugged out of her head, then dove into the basements stairway; making sure to shut the door and smashed the keypad, locking it shut.

A stream of rounds slashed through the door, one slicing right through her side below her left ribcage; while two more grazed her left leg.

Yaase screamed in pain and threw herself backwards; tumbling down the stone stairway of the old hotels basement. She fell for several minutes before smashing into the ground at the base of the stairs; dislocating her left shoulder with an audible _CRACK!_

"Urgh…" She groaned, propping herself up on her non dislocated arm.

She could already feel her nose filling with mucus and her head began thudding with the beginnings of a massive headache. If she didn't act soon, the infection would kill her.

Steeling herself, she grabbed the new standard issue Immune System Booster Mk. II; newly developed by the human government sponsored research group known as Cerberus. In less than a year, they had developed a booster ten times more effective and longer lasting as the best citadel counterpart.

Rumor was that they were testing to see if they could develop a cure for the Quarian immune system.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts as she began coughing; Yaase jammed the needle into her artery. Immediately, her sinuses started clearing up and her headache began receding. She took out the patch kit, and grimaced as she surveyed the damage to her suit.

She pulled out the knife in her right shoulder, screaming as she did so; and quickly patched it so she didn't lose too much blood.

The tear above her breasts was very concerning to her, both out of modesty and practicality; the suit had torn from above her breasts to her abdomen. Putting it back in place revealed that the Turian had used his talons and ripped it to shreds, only barely covering her.

Oh well.

Cursing the designers of the patch kit, she used her good arm to put the tattered remains of the front of her suit in place. Ignoring the indescribable pain, she used her dislocated arm to hold it in place while she attached the sealant.

The reason for the tear being in such a… exposed place was such a problem to her, was because the patch cloth used was clear. The reasoning was good, in combat the medics need to be able to inspect your wounds without having to remove the suit.

For Yaase, she felt like a prostitute for all intents and purposes; her grey skin showing clearly.

Seeing a strip of cloth, she grabbed it and tied it around her chest; covering most of her privates. Satisfied, she patched the rest of her suit breaches; then came the tricky part. Her shoulder was still dislocated, and try as she might; Yaase couldn't get the socket to realign.

As she pondered what to do, she heard Turians shouting above her.

Remembering why she was there, and how little time she had; Yaase forced herself up, hissing in pain as all seven of her injuries throbbed in unison. "Garrus…" She whispered, clapping her hands together.

Nothing…

"Garrus, your momma sent me; c'mon out." She called out, keeping her voice a whisper.

"_Momma?" _

She whipped her head to the left, and limped over to the little Turian; turning on her helmet lights, seeing the toddler sitting on a blanket holding a stuffed Hanar. Sighing, she knelt down and picked him up; only able to use right arm properly, despite the pain from her shoulder.

She had to suppress the scream of pain as the Turian rested his head on her shoulder.

"Okay, just be quiet kiddo; and I'll get you to your mommy." She whispered.

She limped up the stairs; a hard task since her only good arm was occupied with holding little Garrus, but she grit her teeth and forced herself up the stairway.

"_The Quarian was down here! I ripped her suit; she should be dead by now! She was naked like an Asari stripper, let me tell you!" _She heard a Turian shout from above. Yaase froze, as she heard the door hiss; the Turians finally prying it open.

She saw a positively ancient wine cellar to her left; and dashed into it, shutting the door.

The small grated window allowed her to see out into the hallway, as the Turians finally broke down the door. Immediately, four Turians dashed past the door; weapons out and ready, searching for a target.

Finding none, they moved past her line of sight; as two more Turians came into view.

Yaase felt her breath hitch slightly as she spied the shorter of the two; his limp, the rapidly bandaged shoulder and side, the bruises dotting his face. It was the same one that ambushed her from before.

"_You're sure she came this way corporal?" _The taller one asked.

"_Yes sir, torn suit from the collar bone to the abdomen. Even if she patched it up, no way she's in any shape to leave." _The Corporeal was a long pause; _"Shame I couldn't get a better look; a lot like an Asari, just grey and with a smaller pair." _He joked.

The leader chuckled; _"Never understood what you find so attractive with those mammalian features Yiso." _

_KABOOM!_

An explosion rocked the room, and Garrus gave a soft whimper of fear; Yaase, doing the only thing she could think of to keep the toddler quiet, stuffed his face in between her breasts. _Sister did this when she wanted her son to be quiet. He can't be much older than one, its fine. _She thought, feeling heat rise to her cheeks regardless.

Fortunately, neither Turian noticed little Garrus's whimpers; Yiso, the one that was injured, wheezed and clutched his side.

"_If what you say is true, you're still more than a match for one sick Quarian woman; we need to get upstairs, you stay here. She has to come out eventually." _The leader ordered. Then a very stern expression crossed his face, he grabbed Yiso by his fringe and held him close; _"When you find her, kill her. Don't waste time sticking it in her; and if I catch you doing it, I'll kill you myself. Got it?" _He growled.

"_Understood Centurion…" _Yiso gasped out.

"_Good. EVERYONE! Let's go, get to the lobby!"_ The Centurion screamed.

The five Turians sprinted up the stairs; leaving Yiso behind. _"Hmph… I can screw whatever I want. She'll die in a few minutes anyway, least she'll die enjoying it." _The Turian grumbled, then trailed off; looking at the crack in the door.

To Yaase's horror, she saw that Garrus's stuffed Hanar was laying in the crack. Her cracked visor had effectively blinded her right field of vision, so she hadn't seen that Garrus had dropped his toy. Yiso began reaching for it, his face a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Realizing what she would have to do, she quietly set Garrus behind her.

She took a deep breath.

Then charged as fast as her injured leg could carry her, she tamped down a scream as she bashed the door right into Yiso's face; and she tackled the Turian to the ground. Caught off guard, the Turian reacted instinctively; reaching back his good arm and punched her in the face.

Her already compromised visor gave way.

The black tinted Plexiglas shattered into a million pieces; exposing her face to the elements. Taking her terror, and shoving it down deep, she drew her lifeday gift; the boot knife her sister had given her. She jammed it towards Yiso'd eye.

The Turian grabbed her arm with his left hand while punching her in her dislocated shoulder with his right.

Stars danced across Yaase's vision, and she gave a guttural scream of pain; but she felt his arm giving way, her gunshot wound to his left shoulder sapping his strength. After a few seconds, his arm gave way; even as he clamped his hand onto her dislocated shoulder like a machine. They both screamed as she drove her knife into his eye socket and into his brain.

Yiso went limp.

Gasping for air, Yaase slumped on top of him; she knew that she needed her spare mask, and needed it now. The ISB Mk. II granted her a full hour of immunity to foreign pathogens and kept any allergic reactions in check. She could run around naked for a few minutes and still be fine. She reached into her pack, and struggled to pull out her spare visor; this one also clear. Everyone would see her face, but between that and survival; she wasn't picky.

"_Momma?" _she heard.

She looked over, and saw Garrus toddle out of the room; holding his stuffed Hanar. He toddled up to her, looking at her face in wonderment. He touched her face with his free hand, feeling a bit of her dark purple hair that had come out of its bun.

"_Momma pretty." _He said.

Yaase laughed, actually laughed. She put her suited hand on Garrus's face, "I'm not quite your momma little one." She replied, a big smile on her face. After getting him to remove his hand, she put her emergency visor on. He could still see her face and he kept staring in wonder.

She grunted as she picked him up, her arm felt like it was on fire; but that was nothing compared to her left arm, which felt like plasma was working its way up her arm. "Ok Garrus, I just need you to be brave for just a little bit longer ok?" She gasped as she limped up the stairs.

She reached the door, or rather the doorframe where it used to be.

She staggered out into the hallway, looking on in disbelief as she saw for all intents and purposes a miniature war occurring in the lobby of the hotel. Turians and Russians going at each other with knifes and bayonets. Marines trading fire with Turian snipers taking cover on the second floor. Her fellow Quarians were moving from pillar to pillar, trying to flank the Turians.

"Are you fucking me in my va…" She stopped herself, remembering there was a child present; even if it was a human curse, the… intricacies and meaning of the words behind it were not lost on her; Best to not expose little Garrus to the art of cursing and crude sexual comments just yet.

Taking a breath, and steeling her courage; Yaase dashed for the exit.

She ignored the slugs nearly hitting her; the .50 caliber bullets whizzing past her head, and just focused on the exit. She stumbled from the pain in her leg, but ignored it. For some reason, none of the Turians shot at her, perhaps they didn't see her as a threat; perhaps they saw the child in her hands, and didn't want to take the chance.

For whatever reason, whether it be the Ancestors, the Human God, or even the Turian Spirits; she made it without a scratch.

She reached the truck and sagged in relief and exhaustion; panting as the adrenaline rush began to fade. "Yaase is that… _Oh Kheelah! Yaase!"_ she heard a familiar voice shout. Within seconds, her squad, along with several humans she didn't recognize, Captain Shepherd, and Major Molotov all rushed over to her.

All of them were staring at her wide eyed.

Except her squad mates; Stiles and Aiello immediately began fussing over her injuries, Howard and Jaan both hugged her; although both immediately stopped when she gave a muffled howl of pain. Sgt. Gudal glared at her, although she could see a hint of respect in the woman's eyes; and Lieutenant Jaraah looked relieved. It was a sweet moment, but she had a mission to complete.

"Where's the kids family?" She gasped out.

"_Garrus!" _A familiar voice shrieked; Yaase smiled and turned as Garrus's face brightened immediately. _"Sissy!"_ Garrus babbled, as Solana and Mrs. Vakarian grabbed Garrus, crying in relief.

"Alright that's all the civies, load them up!" Gudal shouted, Gesturing wildly; "We need a driver, Jaan get one from the civies."

Jaan nodded, looking into the back as the Vakarians climbed inside; _"We need a driver. Can any of you drive?"_ he asked. An old Turian raised his hand, and rushed over to them.

Jaraahs expression darkened behind his visor upon seeing this, and he glared at Gudal; "Sergeant we are escorting them to the lines, and that's final."

"Sir, with respect all you'll be doing is painting a target on their-" Gudal started. Rapid fire gunshots interrupted their argument, as a squad of Turians rushed their position; firing wildly. Yaase grabbed Gudals pistol out of the holster before anyone could react; and rapid fired the magazine into two of the Turians heads, splattering their brains across the street.

By that point, Shepherd and Molotov had opened fire; blasting the Turians with a flurry of bullets. Within seconds, the seven Turians dropped dead. Before Yaase could feel any form of satisfaction, a scream tore through the air.

Everyone turned in horror as Mrs. Vakarian dropped to the floor of the truck, blood pouring out of her chest. Solana covered Garrus's eyes and shrieked. Jaan and Howard rushed over, checking her for life signs. Both looked at each other before shaking their heads. "She's gone." Howard said.

_Clank!_

Yaase dropped the pistol in shock, her good arm covering her mouthpiece in horror and despair. Gudal and Jaraah rushed over, Gudal doing the same checks as Jaan and Howard. She growled before banging the butt of her rifle on the side of the truck. "GO ON! Get moving!" She roared.

The truck started moving as Jaraah grabbed Gudals shoulders and shook the Sergeant.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"Following orders; everyone back to the hotel now!" She snapped in reply.

Shepherd had tears in her eyes, but shook her head and walked away; Molotov bowed his head, muttering a quick prayer. Jaraah looked out as the truck moved away, unconsciously stepping forward; "Hey!" Gudal said, grabbing the Lieutenant by the shoulder. They looked at each before Gudal shook her head; "There's nothing you can do."

Solana's screams and Garrus's crying echoed in the distance as the truck drove away, then Yaase felt herself go lightheaded. "Oh Shit! Yaase!" She heard Howard shout as the ground rushed up and met her visor.

Then blackness overtook her.

* * *

**A/N: You know the Star Trek: Original Series, where Kirk got his shirt ripped by Finnegan? That's what happened to Yaase's suit. And I picked that example because it was the closest I could find.**

**So yeah… this was a chapter.**

**Yaase saved a civilian despite suffering seven injuries that on their own could have killed even a normal human; Seven injuries, pay attention to that number because that will be very important later on. **

**Saw Rambo Last Blood; so goddamned satisfying to say the least. By the way, wtf is with people saying that it's racist? How? As far as I'm concerned, Rambo is killing rapists and sex traffickers; what's wrong with that?**

**I have had a few people complain that Quarians don't look how I'm describing them. How?**

**I'm following the one unmasked picture we have and I'm expanding upon it a bit. Asari and Krogan, like humans, have differing skin tones; why not Quarians? In my mind, they have Grey, Light Purple, or Light Tan for skin tones. And for their hair; it's either dark grey, white, black, or dark purple. Otherwise they look like humans.**

**In other news, to any aspiring artists; I would love it if you could get in touch with me. I really want to make a graphic comic version of this story. I would get some select chapters commissioned, but since I don't own the mass effect series; I'm afraid I'd get sued. Please PM if you are interested. That being said; certain chapters stand out to me as being far better visualized than described, this one being a good example.**

**I'll be going back to plot related chapters soon, once my first round of exams are over; until then expect more filler. **

**Please give me a TV Tropes Page! I beg of you!**

**Leave a review as always; but please don't be a dick.**

**And I will see ya when I see ya.**


	32. Some bad news And some good news (AN)

**A message directly from the Author:**

Yes, i know i'm supposed to only have actual story updates rather than me talking to fans, but i have no other way of doing so. I've gotten messages from people asking if this story is dead, so i need to rectify that.

I want to apologize in advance for doing this guys; but this story is undergoing a very serious rewrite.

I have gone back to many of these chapters; and while half of them are pretty good, the other half make me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon. I would rather be waterboarded again in all honesty (long story, don't ask) than read many of these old chapters. I'm not discontinuing this story, but i will not post new story related chapters until i am satisfied with all the rewritten ones.

It actually pains me to do this, but i honestly have to do this; because i have written myself into a corner in some ways, and don't address important plot points in other ways.

In the meantime; go read my other Story, "A Ghost and a Spectre." It's a Semi-Self Insert Story, with its own take on things. When i say Semi-Self Insert, i mean that it doesn't necessarily follow canon; but in ways that make sense. Please go read that, it should tie you guys over until i get the rewritten chapters up to snuff.

Again, I'm REALLY sorry about this; but when i think that i would rather be waterboarded again (an experience i did not enjoy let me tell you) as opposed to reading these early chapters, you know shit needs to be redone.

I can only ask for forgiveness guys; sorry, this is a real shitty way to end the decade, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. And for those of you that have already read and like "A Ghost and a Spectre;" An update for that will come in later today.

Hope you all have a good day; and i will see ya when i see ya.


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